


Fighting the Wolf

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bestiality, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Public Sex, Rimming, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-11
Updated: 2006-10-19
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 51,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Agreeing to infiltrate Greyback’s werewolves had seemed to be the right thing at the time, yet for every day and month that passed, Remus’s doubts grew as his longing for a real life increased. – Takes place from the end of OotP to the end of HBP and features both het and slash pairings.





	1. Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Pairing this part: Remus/Sirius,   
Rating this part: FG-13, (later parts will be RT)  


In this chapter there is a reference to the Fidelius Charm and how it works. My interpretation is based on ’s essay on the subject, which can be found [here](http://shaggydogstail.livejournal.com/88551.html). It’s a splendid essay and I recommend anyone who hasn’t read it to do so. 

This is written as a responce to the Lusty Month of May Marathon Challenge on Pervy Werewolf. 

Concrit is welcome. 

* * *

The house is uncannily quiet when he enters. Even as he strains his ears, he hears nothing but the creaking of the floor as he steps on it. He takes a deep breath and tries to shake the feeling that Sirius will come down the stairs at any minute and scold him for not being here earlier to keep him company. Sirius won’t be coming down the stairs any more. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever again. This time he won’t have a second chance. The second chance is taken, spent, over – did he use it as well he should have? He wonders. He’s not sure. 

He can’t go upstairs just yet. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t. It must be done, he understands that, just as he understands that time is precious and that he has to pack up and leave. Sirius is dead. The Fidelius Charm he cast is broken, as is every Charm he ever cast before. Bellatrix might show up on the doorstep to claim what she thinks is now hers at any moment. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to wait after all. Revenge is said to be sweet – and Bellatrix deserves to die. 

He closes his eyes as he steps into the dark hallway, letting his feet guide him as he finds his way to the drawing room. The room looks exactly as it did before they left – as if nothing has changed at all. How can it look the same when everything is different? He picks up an ashtray from the table next to him without even knowing why. He doesn’t smoke and neither does – did – Sirius. So why does the ashtray catch his eye? He doesn’t know. He turns as he hears something, but there is no one there – just him. Still the sounds grow louder – the sounds of voices from the past, of his own memories, drowning out what’s real and replacing it with what was.   

_‘James! We’re in Gryffindor! Both of us! We’re in bloody Gryffindor!’_  
‘I noticed, Sirius. No need to make the poor guy next to you deaf over it.’   
‘But James – We’re in Gryffindor! Can you believe it? Mum’s going to have a tantrum – my whole family is going to go bonkers! Isn’t it sodding fantastic?’  
‘Sorry about him, he’s a bit bonkers himself–”.   
‘I am not!’   
‘I’m not the one screaming my head off. I’m James by the way.’   
‘Remus.’  
‘Nice to meet you, Remus. Bonkers here is Sirius.’  
‘I can introduce myself, thank you very much. And I’m not bonkers – just Sirius.’

A loud crash catches his attention, and he draws his wand and spins around. His heart is pounding and it takes a moment before he sees the shattered pieces of the ashtray on the floor by the wall. Confused, he wonders why it’s there, until he realises that he must have thrown it himself. He walks up to the sofa in the room, torn and probably still infested with all sorts of things – just like his life, he thinks as he sinks to the floor next to it. Infested – another way of thinking about it isn’t it? He wonders if the others think of themselves like that sometimes. Probably not – they like what they are. He never did. 

_‘So when are you going to tell us, mate?’  
‘Tell you what, Sirius?’  
‘What you do when you’re away every month?’   
‘What do you mean? I have a sick aunt. I visit her from time to time, that’s all.’  
‘Every month?’     
‘When the moon is full, we might add.’   
‘_Only _, when the moon is full!’_  
‘The three of you’re crazy!’  
‘Are we?’   
‘We’ve seen your boggart, Remus,’   
‘A full moon.’  
‘You’re going to tell us, mate.’  
‘We’ve already worked it out anyway.’   
‘We are your mates, after all.’  
‘Still?’  
‘Of course!’

He’d never thought he’d have friends, and then all of a sudden he had. Not just friends, but friends who accepted him completely, who became Animagi to be with him when he transformed. He’d been happy during those years. Completely and fully happy – the first – the only – time after the werewolf bite he truly had been. 

He forces himself off the floor and out of the room. He has to go upstairs and pack – Dumbledore ordered him to and he doesn’t really want to stay here anymore. He never did want to stay here at all, he was only ever here because of Sirius. It was cruel to keep him in here, in the house he hated more than anything; in company of the memories that haunted him. The family tree that he didn’t belong to anymore, the painting of a mother who should have loved him, but that hadn’t – not even he had been able to relieve Sirius’s pain. It wasn’t fair, not when Sirius had managed to relieve his pain so many times, through so many transformations. 

_‘Hey watch it, Sirius, you can’t knock me over like that!’_  
‘I’ve cracked it!’  
‘What? Someone’s skull when you knocked them down a flight of stairs?’  
‘No silly! IT! I’ve cracked it. I know what I am, now.’  
‘You do not! Do you?’  
‘I do! A dog. A big black dog.’  
‘A big black dog? For a moment I thought you were being serious.’  
‘I am!’  
‘And this big black dog has nothing to do with your name – first and last?’  
‘See, it’s perfect! And no! I really am a big black dog. Come on, I’ll show you!’

Why is he sitting on the stairs? For a moment he wonders, before he remembers tripping over. That explains why his shin hurts – he must have bumped it when he tripped. At least he didn’t wake up Mrs Black, so he must have had the sense to stay quiet. He is pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to handle her screaming right now, although any noise would probably be better than the complete silence that is. 

He rises and continues into the bedroom that was his, forcing himself to ignore the room next to it – the room that was Sirius’s only a few hours ago, forcing himself to push away the memories of times spent there together trying to make up for lost time, holding on to each other through the night in a need for something that was lost in the years and the sorrows, in search of the dream that died. Images of naked skin and hungry eyes flash before his eyes as he packs, as does the image of Sirius falling; of Harry fighting in order to go after his godfather. There is nothing to do about what was, about what isn’t anymore, so he bites back the pain in his throat and packs his belongings. There aren’t many, so it doesn’t take long. 

The crack from someone Apparating draws his attention, and for a moment he stands absolutely still, clutching his wand, wondering if this will be his chance for revenge. He hears the low, gentle, humming before the soft knock on the door and lets out the breath he’s been holding as he lowers his wand. He should have known Dumbledore wouldn’t leave him here alone, that he would check up on him to make sure he was really leaving. Of course he should.

With a tight hold on the old worn bag containing his meagre possessions, he opens the door and steps outside. 

“I’ve finished, you didn’t need to check up on me,” he says quietly. 

“I thought I would see if you needed any help,” the old man responds, although both of them knows that isn’t the entire truth. 

They walk down the stairs in silence, as much because there isn’t really anything to say as because of Mrs Black. Not until they reach the back door of the kitchen does the silence between them break. 

“Remus, I’m so–”

“You know what you asked me to do a few weeks back?” he interrupts his old teacher, not ready to hear condolences quite yet. 

Dumbledore nods, and his long white beard bobs up and down. 

“I’ve decided to do it, after all,” he goes on, making it sound like this isn’t something he decided just now and would never agree to if Sirius hadn’t… “Set it up, and find out where Greyback is,” he finishes, turning on his heel and leaving the house before Dumbledore has a chance to speak. Before he has the chance to change his mind. 

By the time he realises that he doesn’t know where he is going, he is far from the house, far from Dumbledore. Standing in the middle of London with nowhere to go, he wonders if he’s made the right choice. Then he decides that it doesn’t matter. There is no turning back now, and no matter what happens, he has given his word. He’ll find Greyback, he’ll make the werewolves trust him – and when the moment is right, he’ll betray them. 


	2. I Won't Do That!

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:** : Past Remus/Sirius, unrequited Remus/Tonks 

**Rating this part** : PG-13

* * *

_“You want me to do what?”_ Remus exclaimed, standing up so abruptly he knocked his chair over. “Forget it, I won’t do it!” 

“But Remus, you agreed,” Dumbledore stated firmly, his expression one of great severity. 

“I didn’t know you were going to request that!” Remus replied forcefully, stepping back from the table they were all sitting around, not caring that everyone in the small, cramped room they had been using as Headquarters was staring at him. 

“Remus, it’s the only way–” Kingsley started to say, his voice one of reason and logic, one that caught people’s attention and made them listen. Yet this time, Remus didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to be logical. This wasn’t fair! They had no right to ask this of him!

_“Says who?”_ he snapped, staring at the people in the room, daring anyone to speak up. 

Dumbledore’s voice was calm and gentle when he spoke. It was a voice Remus had heard him use many times before, mostly when he tried to explain very difficult things to rather young students. “Remus, you know as well as we do, that Greyback will be suspicious of anyone trying to get into his pack at the present time. This is the only way to convince him that you are trustworthy,” he said, his blue eyes grave and serious as they looked at him steadily. 

Defiantly, Remus stared back at his old headmaster. How dare Dumbledore talk to him like that? He was not a student and Dumbledore had no idea of the magnitude of what they were asking of him. “I’m a werewolf, surely that–” he started to say with gritted teeth, desperate to find a way out of the situation. 

“That won’t be enough, and you know it,” Dumbledore interrupted him forcefully. “You will have to strike when they are transformed, gain their trust when they aren’t themselves. The only way to do that, is to make them think that you’re like them, that you kill just like them. Having the smell of blood on and around you, on your mouth, is the only way to do that,” he continued, and had Remus not known how hard this would be, what they risked if they followed Dumbledore’s suggestion, he, too, would probably have thought it wise. 

“There has to be another way! I won’t do it,” he said firmly, refusing to acknowledge even the possibility that they might be right. 

“Remus, I know you have your concerns, and frankly so did I at first, but Severus assures me that the Wolfsbane Potion won’t be affected by the blood,” Dumbledore continued in the same calm, gentle voice as before. 

“But I will be!” Remus snapped. “You have no idea how the hunger feels, how strong it is. You don’t know what it’s like to bite yourself because your body is craving blood – any blood, even your own. Dumbledore, please don’t ask me to do it, I can’t,” he continued, his voice losing power as his protest turned from shouts to pleas. 

“Albus, maybe we should give this some more thought,” McGonagall interjected, her face one of concern. Remus had never felt more grateful to anyone in his life. 

“No, Minerva, we can’t,” Dumbledore answered her firmly, and to Remus it was as if the only flicker of light had gone out in a sea of darkness. “Remus, I’m sorry, but this is the only way. It will be a small vial, charmed not to hurt your paws when you step on it to crush it.”

“I’m not worried about my paws! I’m worried about what will happen if I get a taste for blood!” Remus cried out in frustration, glancing around the room for some support – any support – for his refusal. His attempts were futile, Elphias, Dedalus, Moody and Kingsley all met his eyes with conviction of being right. Minerva and Molly looked concerned, but still seemed convinced that the decision was correct. Tonks  stared down at the table or her hands, as if there was something very important with them, her hair uncharacteristically dull for once. He turned away from the table when his gaze fell on Snape, who looked awfully pleased by the whole situation and didn’t seem able to stop smirking.

He could hear Dumbledore rising and moving up behind him, the old man’s hand heavy as he placed it on Remus’s shoulder. “I know you are,” he said softly. “If there was another way, believe me, we’d find it. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, Remus,” he continued, and somehow Remus did know, even if the mere thought of consuming blood while a werewolf scared him more than anything he could possibly think of. 

What if it didn’t work? What if the hunger for blood took over his mind? Or worse, what if the hunger for blood became as strong as it had been before, but his mind still kept its clarity? Did they even know what could happen if a werewolf managed to keep his mind a human one and still decided to hunt and kill? He shuddered at the thought, and pushed it firmly away as he turned to face the room once more. 

“So if I agree – whose blood will I be…” he asked, not being able to even pronounce it, but still knowing that Dumbledore wouldn’t drop the issue until he at least thought that Remus was going to do it. 

“Nymphadora was kind enough to–” Dumbledore started to respond. 

“NO!” Remus exclaimed, jerking his head around to stare at her where she sat, as she lifter her gaze in response to his outburst.  

“Remus, surely it won’t matter whose it is?” McGonagall said, sounding confused. 

“It’s the logical choi–” Kingsley started, but this was not something Remus wanted to negotiate. 

“I said no!” he interrupted forcefully. “If you want me to do it you’ll have to find someone else’s blood!”

“Remus, why not mine?” Tonks responded, no longer hesitating to meet his gaze.

“As Kingsley said, Remus, Nymphadora is the most logical choice,” Dumbledore said calmly, and Remus forced himself to turn to face the man next to him. “She is the only one whose blood we already have–” Dumbledore went on. 

“I don’t care!” Remus snapped, determined not to agree. Tonks was not even fully recuperated yet, she still suffered side effects of the spell that had hit her, she could hardly even transform anymore and her problems to do so were only growing with time. How could they even think that it would be all right to use her blood? “Find someone else’s. I can even use my own–” he continued, needing a way out of the predicament he’d found himself in. 

“You know as well as we do that that isn’t an option. Greyback would smell it from miles away,” Dumbledore responded, as annoyingly correct as always. 

“Then someone else’s! Tonks has been through enough, already! She has only just been discharged from St. Mungo’s, for crying out loud!” Remus pressed on, determined to make them see sense, and even more determined to convince himself that his reluctance had more to do with Tonks’s health than with the wicked thoughts involving her that had kept him preoccupied for a rather large number of nights during the past few months.

“Which is why it is her blood we’ll use,” Dumbledore said, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“The healers drew blood from me when I was still unconscious, trying to work out which spell it was that had hit me,” Tonks explained softly, her voice much steadier than the situation warranted, as far as Remus was concerned.  

“We have people in St. Mungo’s who have retrieved what was left over,” Dumbledore filled in before Remus had the chance to ask any questions. 

Annoyed and angry at being trapped like this, Remus snorted. “Then I’m sure those people can get someone else’s blood instead!” he said, letting his eyes wander from Dumbledore to Kingsley to Moody – all of whom he was certain had come up with this horrible idea in the first place. 

“That’s just silly, Remus! I offered my blood willingly,” Tonks said plainly, her arms crossed in front of her and a displeased look on her face. 

“You did what?” he shouted, shocked as well as convinced this was something she would have never done had she known the many times he had found release in his hand with her name on his lips. Even with Sirius in the next room, on the nights Sirius insisted on being alone, he’d had fantasies about her. Not that he would ever act on them, not now and certainly not then when he still had hopes of Sirius and him finding their way back to what they once were. But he still had them. He still thought about what she would look like undressed, about what it would be like to have her in his bed, screaming his name as she came. 

Her annoyed voice cut through his thoughts. “I have as much right to help as anyone else! It was my cousin the Death Eaters killed, if you haven’t forgotten!” she snapped angrily at him, as if he could ever forget that. 

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into–” Remus argued.

“And frankly Remus, neither do you!” Dumbledore inserted. “All our research shows that the Wolfsbane Potion will keep you from reacting to the blood.” 

“And exactly how many werewolves have this been tested on, then?” Remus asked sarcastically, fairly sure he already knew the answer. 

It was, however, not Dumbledore who answered his question, but McGonagall. “It’s not a matter of testing it on werewolves, Remus, but of working out if the ingredients and calculations–” she said, affirming his suspicions. 

“None then!” Remus cut her off, feeling it needless to listen to explanations about research methods. “And what happens if your calculations are wrong? What happens if the lust for blood takes over?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he let his gaze wander from one person to the next. 

“We are confident that it won’t!” Dumbledore answered him with a certainty Remus was fairly sure wasn’t warranted. 

Before he had time to object to Dumbledore’s statement, Tonks spoke up again: “Remus, it needs to be done, it’s a way to avenge Sirius death,” she said, her voice nearly as pleading as his had been earlier. 

Remus, however, was not prepared to hear her plea. “I’m not using your blood, and that’s final!” he said tersely. 

“And now you’re just being a git!” Tonks responded, her voice shrill as she, too, stood up. “I want to help – it’s my choice, not yours or anyone else’s!” she yelled. 

“It may be your choice to offer, but it’s mine to choose to accept– and I will not take you up on your offer!” Remus snapped back.  

“Sirius was my cousin!” Tonks practically yelled. “And he was killed while I was lying unconscious on the floor – completely useless to him and everyone else! I need to do this – I want to contribute, Remus,” she argued, tears of anger rising in her eyes as she spoke.

“Tonks, there are plenty of ways of–” Remus tried, feeling a pang of guilt for not helping her relieve her pain. 

“Nymphadora is an adult. She is entitled to making up her own mind,” Dumbledore interrupted him. With a deep sigh, he continued – his voice once more soft and gentle, giving the illusion of choice where there really was none. “Remus, we need the information – Harry needs the information – this is the only way. Surely Sirius would want you to–” 

“That’s not fair!” Remus snapped, needing to keep the other man quiet before he finished the sentence. Sirius would have never requested that he…but then that wasn’t really true, was it? Sirius would have done anything for Harry – and would have expected him to do the same. 

“War isn’t fair, Remus, you know that,” Dumbledore said calmly, as if Remus didn’t know that already. If war had been fair, he wouldn’t have lost Sirius all those years ago. If war had been fair he’d have been able to get back what they’d lost when he returned instead of spending most of his time alone watching Sirius haunted by horrible dreams and a longing that could never be sated. If war had been fair a lot of things had been different. 

Turning on his heel, Remus stalked out of the room before anyone had any chance to continue. With closed eyes, he leaned back against the wall outside, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He knew he was beaten – he had been as soon as Sirius’s name had been brought up. The only way, they said. Maybe, maybe not – but they weren’t really giving him a choice in the matter, were they?

From inside the room he could still hear their voices, mumbling amongst themselves, about him, no doubt. Over them all he could hear Dumbledore’s soothing voice: “Don’t worry, Nymphadora, he’ll agree.” 

He gave a terse laugh. Of course he would – he always did, didn’t he? Still Tonks’s reply surprised him. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he heard her voice say softly, and he suddenly felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite identify, followed almost immediately by an equal pang of guilt. Taking a deep breath, he finally moved and walked out of the house. This was not going to be easy.


	3. The Hunt

  
Author's notes:

**Pairings this part** : Greyback/Moony, (Padfoot/Moony)

**Rating this part:** NC-17

**Warnings this part** : Bestiality, non-con.

* * *

Golden eyes in the darkness are the only clue to the wizards and Muggles that they’re there, quietly waiting, ready to strike at first sight of someone to attack. They stalk the small, idyllic village from the cover of the nearby forest. They’ve been here for hours now, using the higher ground for a stakeout – giving them perfect view of the small, rural houses bellow. There is a deliberant streak in their actions, which has him worried, something calculating about the entire hunt. Transformed, they shouldn’t be able to think logically, and yet they act as if they did. Luckily, the people inside have been very wise to stay there – whether they remain indoors because they sense the danger or because of the cold and misty weather he doesn’t know, but he is grateful nevertheless. 

They move quickly when they hear something stirring, and Remus sharpens his ears and eyes to find out what it is that has made them react. He knows he himself should act now, rather than later – that he shouldn’t wait, that he shouldn’t have waited this long even. The small vial of blood weighs heavily around his neck in spite of its size, but to use it seems too frightening. Still, he knows he can’t put it off any longer. This is the only night of full moon – tomorrow will be too late; by then it will be another month before he can strike. No, it has to be tonight and he knows it, as heavy as the responsibility weighs on his heart. 

Watching them group for hunting, he draws back, needing to distract them before someone gets hurt, before they kill or infect someone else with this disease. He shudders, remembering his own bite as clearly as if it was yesterday. The fear, the ferocious glare of Greyback’s eyes, the yellow glow of his teeth as they sank into his flesh. He closes his eyes and breathes, willing the memories to go away. He cannot do this filled with the fear he had as a child – and yet the images of his attack have been present in his mind since he first laid eyes on Greyback again three days ago. 

He moves carefully over the woody ground, careful not to step on any twigs or brush against any bushes. For now, it’s still important for them not to know he is here – he mustn’t make a sound. He stops by the small pit he dug the night before. It’s a shallow pit, easy to dig, and hopefully even easier to fill again. Hopefully still deep enough to block out the scent of blood even to a werewolf. He’s not too convinced of the latter, but it will have to do for now, since he doesn’t have much time. 

Using his front paw, he pulls the small vial from his neck. The small bottle catches the light of the moon as it falls, and glints like a deep red ruby. This isn’t a ruby, however, and Remus is well aware of that when he closes his eyes and steps on it – feeling the material of the vial vanish from under his paw, only to be replaced by the wet, soft texture of the blood within.  

The scent of the blood reaches his nostrils almost as once, and he growls at the alluring promise it offers. He can already taste it, the sweet metallic taste that has his mouth watering and his heart beating faster. It’s intoxicating, bewitching, dangerous. He steps back, trying to collect his senses by avoiding the scent, but it is no use – the scent is too strong, too powerful. To a werewolf, there is no stronger scent than blood – none as seductive either. 

Stepping up to the pit he lowers his head, preparing to do what he is expected to do – lick the blood from the ground, and smear it on his nose. This close, the scent changes, becomes more distinct. He can feel __her__ in the scent, and once more he wishes that this was someone else’s blood – anyone’s blood – just not hers. 

Never having done this before, he cannot pretend he isn’t scared. In truth, he is terrified. This has been something he has been depriving himself of for almost his entire life, and here it is, for him to take as he wanted. Will he be able to stop once he has started? He can only hope that Dumbledore knows what he is asking of him, and trust that Snape knows enough about the Wolfsbane Potion to be sure that it still leaves __him__ in control. 

His heart hammering in his chest, Remus does what he is expected to – and no sooner has the blood landed on his tongue than a loud, resounding howl he cannot stop erupts from deep within his lungs. The feeling is powerful, exhilarating, and threatens to overwhelm him completely. It’s sexual and he can feel himself growing harder than he has ever been before. The hunger that awakens is more than anything he’s felt in his life, and he easily laps up the rest of the blood on the ground, only to realise that it’s too little, not enough – he wants more. 

Horror-struck at the realisation, Remus fights. He still has his mind, even as his body’s urges threaten to take control over him, and he will not let that happen. He has to keep his mind! There is no option, because he could not live with himself if he were to hurt anyone. 

Hearing them approach through the forest makes things easier as his survival instinct forces him to focus on something other than the taste of blood in his mouth and the sense of hunger he has. Quickly, he fills the pit with dirt, before he sets out to meet the others, as far away from the pit and the remains of her blood as he can. 

The pack is waiting for him when he arrives, a mass of brown, grey and black, and towering over them all – Greyback, the light grey hairs on his back shining in the light of the full moon. With raised upper lips to bare their teeth and the hairs on their backs standing straight up, the werewolves look at Remus suspiciously and growl. Only Greyback is quiet as he raises his nose to the air and sniffs. 

For a moment, Remus doesn’t know what to do. He stands still, staring back at the threatening pack, swaying between the instinct to growl back, and the knowledge that to do so would be unwise. When Greyback moves forward, he backs up, desperately trying to decide how to act, knowing that this is the one and only chance he’ll have. If he wants to gain their trust – this is it. Being a werewolf is not enough, now he needs to become one of the pack as well. 

Instinct reminds him what to do when he sees Greyback bare his teeth and growl at him, his ears erect and his body hunched as if ready for attack. Without the need to think, Remus knows what to do, and crouches down low on the ground and whimpers, his ears flat against his head and his tail low against his leg as he acknowledges Greyback’s authority. Greyback seems pleased, and in the background, Remus notices that the other werewolves relax too, certain that their leader has control of the situation. 

As Greyback comes closer, still sniffing the air curiously, Remus reaches up and licks his nuzzle. He wonders how he knows to do this. There have been no studies of werewolves moving in packs that he knows of, and yet somehow Remus still knows how to act towards a dominant male. 

Grayback let out a contented sound, and grabs Remus’s nuzzle with his jaw, no doubt tasting the residues of blood in his mouth. With a movement so fast it completely catches Remus off guard, Grayback pushed him down on the ground and stands over him, growling as he bites down into his neck. Yelping from the sharp pain, Remus tries to push away, but to no avail. Greyback seems several times stronger than him, and even if he weren’t, the position Remus is in makes it impossible for him to get out of Greyback’s grip. 

He understands what is about to happen when Greyback moves behind him, and even as he claws the ground to get away, he realises that there is no escape. Not with his life intact. The other werewolves are still watching them intently, ready to strike if he rebels against Greyback’s domination, and Greyback himself has him in a firm grip, and does not seem prone to let go. 

He closes his eyes upon feeling the sharp pain of intrusion, and wishes he could hold back the whimpers and yelps of pain that spill from him. Greyback is big, or at least he feels it, as he pushes inside him and takes what Remus is not willing to give. The growls from behind are deep and loud, and Greyback at least seems to be enjoying this assertion of dominance immensely. Remus only wants to get away, but he tries to stay calm, tries to will himself not to make too loud protests as the pain has his entire body shaking. 

He keeps his eyes firmly closed, trying to escape in his mind what he cannot escape in flesh. He remembers another pair of legs on his shoulders. Another warm furry body behind him. Someone else pushing into him with vehemence, if also with much more care. He remembers the yelps of pleasure, the growls and the final howl that always had him shaking with pleasure and spilling on the ground. He remembers the way Padfoot would move to lie beside him, how they would curl together, licking each other’s nuzzles until they started to lick completely other parts of each other’s anatomy until they were ready to go again. 

He remembers, and with the memory comes the escape, and for a moment he is back in the Forbidden Forest, and it’s Padfoot who is shagging him, not Greyback. What is memory becomes true, what is true becomes a mere shadow. Greyback vanishes, as does the pain, the surrounding werewolves, the people in the small village that sleeps and has no idea of what is happening on their very doorstep. In their place there is Padfoot and pleasure and play and taking turns. It doesn’t hurt any longer, because it’s not allowed to. He yelps again, but this time from the power of the memory as the forced pleasure takes over. He is still hard and throbbing from the taste of blood in his mouth, pretending there’s another reason for it isn’t difficult, and then suddenly he is coming on the ground in front of him, the ghost of black fur flashing before his eyes. The memory of a passion that he never managed to suppress, that has sustained him through more nights than he care to acknowledge, too powerful to refuse. 

A gigantic howl, forces him out of his dream, forces him back to reality. Impossible to block out, the sound pierces his ears as every werewolf in the pack joins in on the song. That’s then he realises that it is over. The howl is Greyback’s passion, his victory, and the sharp pain eases as Greyback lets him go. He has asserted his dominance, and Remus has passed the test. He’s in. 


	4. Reminiscence

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/his hand, Remus/Sirius   
 **Rating this part** : RT  
 **Warnings this part** : Wanking, oral sex, bad-sex, first time

* * *

He woke up panting, the sheets of the small, creaky bed clinging to his sweat-drenched body. Memories of what happened only hours before mingled with the images that had haunted his dreams since Sirius died, and he sighed as he tried to push them away to the corners of the mind, where he seemed to hide so many things these days. 

The sigh turned into a painful groan as he tried to move – a sharp, intense burning reminding him just all too well of what Greyback had done. His jaws clenched together he turned to his left with a wince, forcing himself to remain relatively quiet as he focused his energy on studying the tiny, darkened room he was in. 

It wasn’t what he had expected. Not that he actually had expected anything in particular, but with all the possibilities that had gone through his mind, being left alone in a room of his own had not been one of them. Although, looking around the cramped space, he could see that it wasn’t much more than a cell, filled with furniture that looked as though it had been collected from refuse heaps rather than bought. 

The bed, narrow and rickety as it was, almost covered one of the walls, only leaving room for the door to the room open by its end. A wooden chair was placed next to the head of the bed, and next to that was a scruffy looking cabinet – which, if Remus’s eyes weren’t deceiving him in the darkness, was also made out of some kind of wood. 

Apart from a box, serving as a table in the remaining corner of the room, there was no other furniture in the room. Nor was there any room for it. A window, covered with torn pieces of fabric shielding the room from the early light of dawn, sat high on the wall facing the bed, indicating that the room itself was located below ground level. Either that or this room really was a cell. Frowning, he wished he’d paid more attention when he’d been brought here just before they dawn, but then again, there had been other things on his mind at that time. Like the question of walking without whimpering with every step. 

He gasped with pain again when he adjusted his position on the bed, sure that if he looked in the morning there would be blood on the sheets. He wanted nothing more than to leave this place and never come back, yet he knew he couldn’t. No matter what Greyback did to him, he would have to take it. It was the only way, and they needed the information. Besides, he could take the pain. It was after all not the first time he’d felt it, he thought, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he closed his eyes and remembered. 

__’Sirius, are you sure of what you’re doing?’  
 _‘What we’re doing, Moony!’  
_ _‘What we’re doing then. But do you know what to do?’  
_ _‘Of course I do!’  
_ _‘Then don’t do___ that _ _, then! That bloody well hurts!’  
 _‘But Moony this is how they do it!’  
_ _‘They? Sirius, who are they?’  
_ _‘Well…erhm…people…’  
_ _‘Padfoot – Have. You. Done. This. Before?’  
_ _‘Uhm…not technically…but I know what to do, Moony! I’ve seen pictures.’  
_ _‘PICTURES? No wonder it feels like someone shoved nettles up my arse! I thought you knew what you were doing!’  
_ _‘But Moony – you want to do it, don’t you?’  
_ _‘Of course I do! But not like this!’  
_ _‘Then like what, Moony?’  
_ _‘Well since you ask…I should think it’s my turn to try.’___  


Remus smiled faintly at the memory. They’d both been walking on eggshells the rest of that day, wincing badly every time they’d sat down or moved too recklessly. He was fairly sure that James and Peter must have understood exactly what was going on, but if they did, they’d been awfully good at pretending they didn’t. They had, however, managed to leave Sirius and him alone together several times over the following weeks, giving them plenty of opportunities to make bad better.

With his eyes closed and a quiet moan on his lips, Remus wrapped his hand around his growing erection. With slow deliberate strokes, he escaped the confines of the room around him as he had so many times while alone in his bed. Images of Sirius kneeling before him, of his naked skin, of the knowing smile that always made Remus catch his breath and grow hard and ready for him, flickered through his mind as he let fantasy replace reality. 

Another gasp and Sirius’s hand replaced Remus’s own around his cock – slightly harder, slightly faster. Another thrust of his hips and the filthiest words spilling from Sirius’s lips rang in his ears – words that had Remus thrusting harder into the knowing hand, inwardly begging the fantasy to turn words into actions. 

Sirius’s mouth, warm and wet around his cock. Light kisses and licks along his shaft until he could barely stand the tension that coiled in his balls. Sirius’s grin as he stopped teasing and took his entire length down his throat, humming gently around the cock in his mouth, causing a tingling that spread throughout his body and made him throw his head back and growl in response. Sirius’s proud smile after he managed to make him lose control and come too fast into his mouth. The taste of himself on Sirius’s lips as Sirius kissed him hard and demanded reciprocation. The feeling of Sirius thrusting passionately inside him, of Sirius’s hand around his cock from behind, of Sirius once more bringing him to orgasm before coming inside him. 

With his groan smothered by the pillow beneath him, Remus shuddered and came, spilling over his hand as he had too many nights before, Sirius’s name still on his lips and his image still edged into his mind. His cheeks damp with tears he didn’t care to wipe away, Remus settled into the small bed, allowing the fatigue that came with climax to claim his mind and body, emptying it from anything and everything. Maybe this time he would sleep without the nightmares. Maybe this time. 


	5. Greyback

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Greyback (Remus/Sirius, Remus/Tonks)  
 **Warnings this part** : Non-con, rimming  
 **Con Crit** : Yes please. 

* * *

When he woke up again, the torn pieces of fabric over the window could no longer block out the morning light. Or was it midday light? He wasn’t exactly sure, but an eerie yellow gloom had settled in the room, casting long shadows on the walls and floor. 

“You slept late.”

Remus jumped at the unfamiliar sound of a raspy, bark-like voice next to him. As he turned his head, he could see Greyback sitting in the chair next to the bed, leaning back with one of his feet resting on the opposite knee. The sheer size of him made the chair seem a lot smaller than it had a couple of hours ago, and combined with his feral grin and the long yellow nails on his fingers, Remus was inescapably reminded of every stereotype he’d ever heard about werewolves in their human form. 

“I was awake for a while, earlier,” Remus answered, clearing his throat when he heard how hoarse he sounded. 

Greyback grinned, showing off his yellowish teeth. “Yes, I can smell that,” he said, sniffing demonstratively into the air. “Arousing, isn’t it? Blood, I mean,” he added, watching Remus carefully. 

Remus swallowed, feeling highly uncomfortable with the thought that Greyback had been able to guess what he had been doing earlier. Guess – because surely he hadn’t actually been able to smell it? Not when he wasn’t transformed. 

With a cough to clear his throat again, Remus nodded, remembering all too well his reaction to the taste of blood last night. “What little I remember,” he said, careful not to reveal just how clear his mind really was during his transformations. If Greyback found out he used Wolfsbane Potion… no, he couldn’t let that happen. 

At that moment, however, Greyback was still looking pleased. With lazy movements, he put his hands together forming a triangle with his fingers while clicking his claw-like nails together. “You’ll learn to remember more – to savour it more – with time,” he said calmly, rising from his seat and walking to the table in the corner of the room. When he turned again, there was a gleam in his eye that Remus couldn’t decipher. “Of course the experience is much more worth remembering if the blood is fresh and not from some… bottle, bag, jar?” he added with a contemptuous snarl. 

Remus’s blood froze when he realised the implications of what Greyback was saying, and he swallowed hard before he dared to speak, afraid his voice might not carry him. “I–” he began, not knowing how to get himself out of the situation.

“You thought that I wouldn’t accept you into my pack?” Greyback suggested. “That I wouldn’t think you worthy?”

Remus nodded quietly, resisting the urge to wipe away the cold sweat that was beginning to form on his upper lip and forehead. He mustn’t show himself weak. He couldn’t afford to. 

“An easy mistake to make, perhaps – but if I hadn’t thought you worthy, I would never have let you live in the first place,” Greyback said, slowly striding up to the bed, making Remus’s hair stand up straight in the back of his neck. “You were such a brave little boy,” Greyback snarled, and Remus couldn’t help the involuntary shudder that ran through his body as a result of what Greyback was saying. “You didn’t even cry when I bit you, in spite of being scared. That’s why I decided to spare you, you know. My plan was always to make you a part of my pack one day. But of course, you couldn’t know that, could you? And just maybe, you didn’t think I’d recognise my own pup?” he finished, and Remus knew the shock must be etched on his face because there was no way for him to hide the feelings that raged inside of him as he realised that his survival as a child hadn’t been as random as he had thought.

Greyback didn’t seem to care, but instead showed off his fang-like teeth in another grin, as he reached out and ran his nail along the line of Remus’s jaw. “Obviously, you didn’t,” he said with a short laugh, using his nail to tilt Remus’s head backwards until their eyes met. “But you see; I keep track of all of my pups – not just you – waiting for them to find their way back to me. Although, granted, you kept me waiting longer than most. No doubt because that old fool Dumbledore allowed you into Hogwarts – as if a werewolf could ever be a part of Wizarding society! But that’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it, pup? You’re here, where you belong, and Dumbledore will have his punishment sooner than he thinks,” Greyback leered, leaning down over Remus in a way that seemed all too familiar to be comfortable. “Now tell me where you got the blood,” he hissed, before he finally quieted. 

“St. Mungos,” Remus answered, realising that he would have to be as honest as he could without revealing anything truly important. Greyback had already caught him lying once, he couldn’t afford it twice.  

“Ingenious, I must say,” Greyback said, sounding rather impressed. “Completely unnecessary, but ingenious, nevertheless,” he repeated. “So how did you know to use it when you were transformed?” 

“I trusted my hunger would do that for me,” Remus answered, hoping that Greyback wouldn’t sense the lie. “Apparently it did,” he added for safe measure.

The answer seemed to be exactly what Greyback had expected, for he seemed not only satisfied, but indeed very pleased with the answer. “Of course,” he said, his face still very close to Remus’s. “Yet still, it must have felt disappointing to settle for cold blood, when you could have had the real thing.”

Remus only nodded, sensing that Greyback much preferred his own voice to someone else’s. He was proven correct when Greyback immediately started talking again. 

“With me you’ll always get what you need and want – as long as you’re a good little pup. If you obey me, I can make you very comfortable,” he said, running his fingers over Remus’s skin as he crawled on the narrow bed, showing in actions exactly what he meant by his words. “Or…if you defy me – I can make you very __un__ comfortable,” he continued, and Remus certainly didn’t need to be shown what he meant by that, the pain of last night still very present whenever he moved. 

Greyback, however, didn’t seem to care, as he continued to lazily stroke Remus’s bare chest, his nails a sharp reminder of what he was probably capable of if provoked. 

“Turn around,” he hissed, his lips so close to Remus’s ear that he could feel them move. 

Suppressing the urge to push Greyback away and make a run for it, Remus did as he was told. This was not the time and place to go against Greyback’s wishes, and if he was going to be accepted he would have to do what he was asked – even if it made him want to vomit in the process. A shudder ran through him when he felt the bed shift behind him, following Greyback’s movement, and he clenched his jaws together to brace himself against what was going to come. At least Greyback seemed more intent on pleasure than dominance this time; because to Remus’s surprise, he took the time to cast a healing charm before doing anything else. 

Remus started at the feel of a tongue between his cheeks, and just hoped Greyback would take his gasp as a sign of pleasure and not repulsion. Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he tried to remember the fantasies from earlier, tried to imagine that it was really Sirius and not Greyback who fucked him with his tongue. 

The image proved a powerful one, and with it firmly in his mind, Remus could begin to relax, if only slightly, allowing Sirius to fill his mind as Greyback moved to fill his body, thankfully making sure to cast a lubrication charm this time. 

Pushed forward by Greyback’s powerful thrusts, Remus leaned down on his forearms, allowing his body to feel as it had when Sirius was still alive. Allowing his mind to wander, to travel to a time when he’d never thought he’d be in a situation like this. He could almost forget – almost convince himself completely that the grunts and groans from behind were Sirius’s, that the fingers digging into his hips didn’t have those long nails, that the scent that was quickly filling the air was the scent of him and Sirius and not someone else. 

He groaned as he felt his body respond, to the movements of Greyback, or the image of Sirius, he couldn’t be sure. Nor did he have the will to care, because caring would mean letting go of the image, letting go of Sirius, and he couldn’t allow himself to do that. Not now, not yet. And then he felt Greyback lean forward and wrap his hand around his erection, as Sirius had done so many times in the past, and he swallowed hard to stay in control. 

He hadn’t expected the luring taste of blood to still linger, to still be so clear on his tongue – but it was, and the moment he felt it there was no turning back. The Sirius in his mind changed, became more feminine, smaller, lighter, with a wide smile and bubblegum pink hair, and then she moaned in his ear and could taste her again. Only it wasn’t her taste of her blood anymore, it was the taste of her arousal, of her willingness as she spread her legs and arched her back off the bed to meet the movements of his tongue. 

He cried out as he came. A wordless cry as the images of Tonks and Sirius became blurred, one turning into the other and then back again. Black mixed with Pink which turned brown, and he was dizzy by the time he collapsed panting on the bed, hearing Greyback’s final growl as he pulled out and spilled over Remus’s back and arse. 

Still breathing heavily, Remus could hear Greyback move behind him – the creak of the bed when he climbed off, the ruffle of fabric as he got dressed. When had he got undressed? Remus couldn’t remember, but it was fairly obvious that he must have at some point. 

“When you’ve collected yourself, there is a bathroom with shower at the far end of the hallway outside. Use it and come upstairs. The others are waiting to meet you,” Greyback said matter-of-factly. 

Remus nodded, wondering if there had ever been a time he’d wanted a shower more than he did at the moment. Still, he didn’t move, not until he heard the door open and close, its hinges squealing in protest to the movement. When he was absolutely sure he was alone in the room, he got up and started looking for his clothes. He found them rather quickly folded and placed in the cabinet, and with them in hand, he left the room to find the shower he futilely hoped would be able to wash away more than sweat and semen off his body. 


	6. The Pack

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:**  Greyback/OMC werewolf, Remus

**Rating this part:** RT

**Warnings this part:** D/s, dub(non)-con, oral sex, voyeurism (of sorts. Can it be called voyeurism if you’re forced to watch?)

* * *

Settling into ‘the lair’, as Greyback insisted on calling the old, rundown house they were in, was easier than Remus had first expected. The doors all creaked, the shower only had cold water, and the floor sounded as though it might fall apart at any moment, but in spite of all that, this was not the worst place Remus had lived. He quickly learned to appreciate the privacy of his small, cramped room, which on further inspection proved not to be in a cellar at all, but on ground level, though the window was boarded up from the outside, giving the appearance that it sat high on the wall. He soon learnt that the same was true for all windows on the ground floor, and that Greyback found this feature to be an excellent shelter from prying eyes – Wizarding or Muggle – he had equal contempt for them both. 

Yet if settling into the house was easy – getting used to Greyback’s method of appreciation, of which he’d been subjected to a number of times during the week and a half that he’d been there, had proven harder, as had the task of making the other werewolves accept his presence. The group was suspicious and watchful – every one of them careful not to lose their own rank in the hierarchy. They’d spied on him in the hope that he’d slip up so that they would have something to report to Greyback. As a result, Remus was constantly forced to watch his step, to be on his best behaviour. Best behaviour unfortunately had the not so pleasant side effect that Greyback was very pleased with his adaptation into ‘pack-life’ as Greyback called it.  

There were some, of course, that seemed more determined to dislike him than others. Lucian Lowell – a young man who in spite of his light brown hair and round face somehow reminded Remus of Sirius, had disliked him from the moment they’d met. Melanie Farkas – a foreign looking woman, with olive skin and honey coloured eyes, who would have been beautiful were it not for the bitter look that never seemed to leave her face. But most of all, there was Marrok Grendel, a broad-shouldered man with salt and pepper hair and a goatee. He was one of the ‘first pups’, as those who Greyback had ‘created’ personally were called, a man who was used to being second in command only to Greyback himself and who didn’t hesitate to assert his dominance over the others as often and violently as he could. 

Marrok had expressed his dislike of Remus’s presence when he was first introduced, arguing that he shouldn’t be trusted and questioning why he hadn’t tried to join the pack before. He had been right, of course, in everything he’d said – and for a while Remus had been rather worried, as he was forced to defend his right to a place in the group with words he knew he would never believe. Nor had Marrok believed them. He had sneered at every statement coming from Remus’s lips, until he finally went too far and Greyback, who had been lazily observing them, had cut in and told him to be quiet. 

In any normal situation, Marrok – as anyone in the room – would probably have gone quiet at the slighest word from Greyback. At least, that was Remus’s would have thought and what he had observed since then. This first time, however, Marrok had not gone quiet, but had continued his arguments, seemingly desperate to get through to Greyback. 

_“But what if he is a spy?”_ Marrok had nearly shouted out in desperation, to several nods from the others. 

“Remus is __my__ pup! Created by me, as you once were, Marrok. He would not be here if I hadn’t decided he was trustworthy.” Greyback had been calm as he answered, but there had been something in his voice that made it clear that he wasn’t at all happy with Marrok’s stubborn outbursts. Yet somehow, Marrok hadn’t noticed what everyone else had. In a room so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, Marrok had pressed on. 

_“ _He should be forced to prove his loyalty_!”_ he’d yelled. _“ _You cannot be certain that he can be trusted just because you made him. He can still fool you, and someone needs to look out for you when you don–”__

The slap had hit him so hard he’d fallen to the floor. With cold eyes, Greyback had watched Marrok spit the blood from his split lip before he spoke. 

“I will not be questioned in my own lair!” Greyback had growled. “I am the leader of this pack – and I’ll take on anyone who believes differently,” he’d said, letting his eyes glide over every single person in the room. 

Satisfied that no one else wanted to speak up against him, Greyback had turned his attention back to Marrok, grabbing his hair and pulling him up to his knees. “You know what you’re supposed to do,” he’d hissed, keeping a no doubt painfully firm grip of the other man’s hair. 

Marrok had nodded his head to the best of his abilities, and with a reproachful glare in Remus’s direction, he’d started to unclasp Greyback’s robes. Remus had resisted a frown of disgust, but hadn’t been able to keep himself from turning his face away from the scene. It was bad enough to be on the receiving end – he had felt no need to watch Greyback force himself on someone else. The others, however, had seemed accustomed to the scene. They hadn’t flinched, or frowned, or turned their heads away, but had watched, with various degrees of interest or disinterest as Marrok had obeyed their leader, his hair still clutched firmly in Greyback’s hand.  

“You shouldn’t turn your head away, Remus. You should know what happens when you defy me,” Greyback had said, his voice even hoarser than usual. Remus did as he was told, and forced himself to turn his face towards the scene 

When watching them, Remus had suddenly understood why he had failed to notice Greyback removing his robes earlier in his room. He had had nothing on underneath that required him to take them off at all. Instead when Marrok had unclasped the last clasp, they’d fallen open, revealing Greyback’s large cock, already throbbing hard and nearly purple in colour. 

How Greyback had managed to get an erection again so soon after he had just finished with Remus, Remus hadn’t been sure. Especially when considering Greyback’s age and the few hours that had passed since their transformation. The idea of him having that much sexual stamina had been both unnerving and uncomfortable, although not as unnerving as watching him push his cock inside Marrok’s mouth and throat, showing no concern for the man in front of him whatsoever. 

Marrok had chocked and tried to pull back for air, but Greyback’s grip on his hair held him still, and Marrok had been forced to adapt to the situation the best he could. Forced to watch, Remus had seen Marrok use his tongue and lips to give Greyback pleasure, licking and sucking while trying to breathe through his nose. Greyback had efficiently fucked his mouth, pushing deep inside his throat in an even steady rhythm, grunting whenever Marrok managed to please him. 

Surprisingly enough, Remus noticed that Marrok, too, had seemed to get off on the situation. Even with Greyback’s pulling his hair so hard it must have felt as if his whole scalp was going to come lose, and pushing so deep inside his mouth that he had choked, Marrok had still groaned around Greyback’s cock, and between his thighs there had been the tell tale bulge from his own erection. 

Greyback, however, had either not noticed or hadn’t cared, because his thrusts had soon became more erratic and shortly thereafter he’d grunted and come deep inside Marrok’s mouth. 

Unable to swallow it all and with Greyback’s cock too far down his throat for too long, Marrok had started coughing as soon as Greyback had released his hair and thrown him back down on the floor. Not casting more than a glance down on the figure on the floor in front of him, Greyback had simply stepped over him and stalked out of the room, seemingly confident that no one would question his decision to let Remus into the group again. 

Still, Remus had been sure that the show of strength had done little for his status in the group, and had been proven right when Lucian Lowell deliberately had shoved his shoulder into him on his way out of the room. Most of the others had settled for avoiding looking at him, but Melanie had glared at him with deadly spite. Without letting Remus out of her sight, she had bent over Marrok to help him up from the floor, only to be rewarded by his anger as he had violently pushed her away. 

When Marrock stood, it had been on his own accord, and he too had glared at Remus before he moved. When he did, it had been to grab Melanie’s arm and jerk her with him, not asking whether or not she even wanted to come. Once the door slammed behind them, Remus hadn’t needed to question why Marrok had taken Melanie with him, the sound of her yelp as he had probably pushed her down on something – a bed, a table, the floor?– clear enough for everyone present to hear. 

With a deep sigh and a deeper wish to be somewhere completely different, Remus had set out to explore the rest of the house, hoping at least some of the others would be easier to persuade than he’d rightfully assumed Marrok would prove to be. 


	7. Tonks

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks

**Rating this part** : RT

**Warning this part** : Wanking. 

**Concrit:** Yes please :D

* * *

Returning to headquarters for the first time was a relief. Even with the horrible tragedies that were the murders of Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance, it was good to see the others. Having spent all his time with the other werewolves, Remus was in desperate need for some friendly conversation with people whom he knew wouldn’t go out and kill someone at the first opportunity. 

 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to add much to the meeting or even give satisfactory reports about Greyback and his group – just a few names and a description and general location of the house. Not that the latter would help. The order was not the only group to take precautions for added security. Dumbledore seemed pleased, however, although Remus had wished he’d taken the information of Greyback’s threats to his person with more seriousness than he did. 

The challenge came when the meeting was over. As people began to leave, Remus lingered, reluctant to go back to the gloom of a house he’d never wanted to visit in the first place – let alone live in. Yet he knew he had to return. His work as a spy was far from over, and he’d already stalled both Mad-Eye and Mr Weasley long enough, earning him a dinner invitation for the weekend and information about Harry’s pending arrival at the Burrow the day after tomorrow. He couldn’t find any more good excuses for not letting them leave after that, and so he resigned himself to the fact that he must indeed return soon. Still, as he stood facing the small fireplace in the room, it was hard to actually pick up his ragged old coat and leave. 

A soft cough from behind him made him spin around quickly, as his stay with Greyback’s group had him on edge and constantly alert. He relaxed when he saw Tonks standing in the doorway, her hair not its usual bubblegum-pink, but instead looking rather plain and flat. 

“Not what it used to be, huh?” she said faintly, when she noticed him looking. 

“Still having trouble with changing, I take it,” Remus said, concerned, she really did look rather ill and not at all like herself. 

“I can from time to time, but…”

“But, what?” Remus asked, confused when she didn’t go on. 

“But nothing,” she said, feigning a smile and moving further into the room. “So how are things really going at your end?” she asked, sitting down on the small sofa and patting the seat next to her. 

Relieved at an excuse not to return so soon; Remus sat down in the sofa as he answered. “I suppose it’s alright,” he said, pondering how much he ought to tell her, then deciding that some aspects of his stay would best be hidden from all not involved. “It’s not easy, and I fear the full moon and taking Wolfsbane Potion in secret, but I’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to manage,” he said. 

“I hope you will,” she answered, moving her hand to cover his, brushing against his thigh lightly as she did. 

If it was her touch, or her sudden shift in position that created it, he wasn’t sure, but suddenly, when Remus turned his head, he caught her scent and couldn’t help but to gasp as something inside him roared with want. 

Startled, and frightened at the strength of the feelings, he jumped up from the sofa and walked to the other side of the room. But whatever had been woken inside him, did not want to go back to slumber but continued to roar within him. 

“Remus, what is wrong?” Tonks asked, her voice filled with concern as she too rose from the sofa and crossed the room to where he was standing. 

“Nothing, I just…” Remus began, but the hammering of his heart and the acute, desperate _need_ to have her – to taste her – prevented him from going on with the lie. When she placed her hand on his shoulder, he was already aroused. 

“I should go,” he croaked out, but as he tried to move, Tonks grabbed his arm and held him back. 

“There is something I need to ask you before you go,” she said, pulling at his arm to make him turn around. 

There was an uncertainty in her voice that he couldn’t quite pin down, a fear he thought, and even with his body reacting as it did, he couldn’t help but to turn around to see what it was that had her in such a state. He regretted it the moment he’d turned. If his body’s reactions had been strong when she was behind him, they were overwhelming now. 

Images from fantasies and dreams flooded his mind. The taste of her lingered in his mouth as clear as if it had been hours and not weeks since he’d tasted her blood. His breathing heavy and his mouth completely dry, Remus forced himself to stay in control, to ask her what it was that had her worried. He could have groaned out loud when instead of answering his question she bit her lip nervously, sucking it into her mouth in a way that had Remus thinking about her sucking on something completely different. 

“What was it you wanted to ask me?” Remus asked again, needing to get out of the room while he was still in control of himself. Her scent was heavy and rich – much more so than he had ever noticed before. But then last time he saw her was before he’d tasted her blood, before he had felt his body respond to the scent and taste of her. Then, it had only been a crush – if yet a very stubborn and intense one. Now it was so much more. 

He startled, when instead of asking him what she had on her mind, she took a deep breath and leaned up and kissed him. Not a friendly peck, but a kiss – her soft lips brushing against his with determination. The groan that filled the room seemed to come from somewhere deep and hollow, and it took some time before Remus realised that it had, in fact, originated from his own mouth. 

Her body was lean and firm as she, encouraged by his strong reaction, wrapped her arms around his neck. Unable to halt the hunger she woke within him, Remus responded, pulling her closer, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her waist. She gasped softly when he pried her lips apart with his own, the urge to taste her so strong he was barely aware of the world around them. 

The sound of his name spilling from her lips while her hands started to find the clasps of his robes pulled him back to reality. The urge to ravish her, to push her down on the hard floor and tear her clothes off her, was so strong it frightened him. Desperately gasping for air and trying to regain control of himself he brutally pushed her away, turning around so he didn’t have to face her. 

“Remus?” she asked, confusion clear in her voice. 

“I should go,” Remus said hoarsely, trying to will his heart to slow down again. The hammering in his head was almost painful, the need he felt too strong, too violent, too dangerous. 

“Why?” she asked. “We’re both adults, if we want to– Remus, I’ve fallen in love with you!” She said it as a statement of fact, but it wasn’t hard to hear that it was something she’d been afraid to say aloud. Remus couldn’t help but to wonder how long she’d felt this way. 

“You shouldn’t have, I’m not good for you,” he said, closing his eyes to prevent the urge of emotions that rose inside him from claiming control. He couldn’t falter. He couldn’t allow himself to do the things he wanted most. He needed to leave her alone. She would get over it. 

“How can you say that?” she asked, her voice upset and slightly angry. _Good!_ he thought. _If she was angry she didn’t’ want him. If she didn’t want him, she was safe_.

“Because it’s true!” he answered, probably a bit harsher than necessary, but then he needed every bit of force he had to keep himself from throwing caution to the wind and just take her then and there. 

“It is _not_ true! You’re a wonderful–”

“I’m _thirteen_ years older than you!” Remus cut her off. “I can’t even afford to dress myself in clothes that aren’t torn to pieces!”

“If I cared about your clothes or your age I would never have kissed you!” Tonks snapped, growing more livid with every word. “And you kissed me back! You wanted this as much as I did!” she continued just as forcefully, catching him off guard as she moved to stand in front of him, grabbing his arms so he couldn’t move again. 

Remus faltered for only a fraction of a second, but that fraction was enough for the images of Tonks, lying naked on the floor, her back arched and mouth open as he pounded inside her, marking her, claiming her as his. 

Repulsed by the strength of his reactions, Remus roughly pushed her away from him – his body nearly shaking with held back lust. 

“Remus,” Tonks started, but Remus had no intention of hearing her out this time. 

“No Tonks. This won’t work. I’m too dangerous!” he said forcefully, holding her firmly at arms length’s distance.

“That’s rubbish – you’re one of the nicest men I know!” Tonks replied with a frown. “You wouldn’t dream of hurting me!” she added. 

“Yes I would, Nymphadora!” he shouted at her roughly; purposely using the name he knew she hated. She flinched, and opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t allow her to speak. Not this time. He could not let her get the best of him. “I would, because it’s all I want to do,” he lied. “All I can think about when you’re close is the taste of your blood and if there ever was a chance, _you_ killed it when you insisted that it was your blood in that vial and no one elses!” he continued, knowing that what he was saying was not only a lie but also highly unfair. Nevertheless, it worked as he intended. Finally letting him go, Tonks looked as though she’d been hit hard in the stomach. 

“You mean…” she said faintly, her voice not carrying enough strength to finish her sentence. 

“Leave it, Nymphadora – I wouldn’t be good for you. I would hurt you. I would scratch you and bite you and hurt you, because you made me want to. You’ve only got yourself to blame,” Remus said, ignoring the stabbing pain in his own chest as he saw the look of despair in her eyes. 

Not being able to stand another moment of being in the same room with her without being able to take her into his arms and never let her go, Remus turned and ran out into the cold rainy night – snatching up his coat on the way out. He Disapparated from the street even before he could put it on, and when he emerged in the group of trees behind Greyback’s house he still had it in his hand, not caring about the rain or the cold anymore. 

All strength leaving him, Remus slumped against a nearby tree, turning his face up towards the sky. The icy rain washing over his face and body, he finally let the images prevail and take over. Tonks on her knees in front of him. On her back on the floor. On all fours on the sofa. With every image came a hundred scenarios, a thousand possibilities that he could never allow himself to explore other than in his mind. Not if he wanted her safe. 

The feeling of his cock, throbbing hard against his trousers, compelled him to undo the fly and wrap his hand around the warm flesh. The heat of the blood through the skin felt odd in his cold wet hand, just as the icy rain made a bright contrast to the warmth of the mouth he imagined in place of his hand. 

It didn’t take much, a few jerks, and her name spilled from his lips as his seed spilled over his hand. Spent, if not at all satisfied, he tucked himself in, bent down to pick up the coat he’d dropped, and walked into the house. He didn’t doubt anymore that Greyback would be able to smell what he had just done, but he did hope he’d leave him alone as for the reason why. Not that it mattered, if he did, Remus would lie – and at least lying was something he’d become rather good at lately. 


	8. Fevered Dreams

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:**  Remus/Sirius

**Warnings this part:** Wanking, frottage, underage sex, bondage, oral sex

**Concrit** : Yes please

* * *

Wanking outside in a rainstorm fit for November hadn’t been his most brilliant idea, Remus thought as coughing once more racked his body. He was feeling miserable and hadn’t been able to get out of bed since he’d arrived back at Greyback’s lair. Nights were dreadful, as his nightmares became more intense with the fever, and there were many less unpleasant ways of waking up than from his sheets soaking wet from sweat. 

 

With a sigh, he flopped back down on the bed again after casting yet another drying charm on the bed. He was quite sure it was the third one tonight. Three days he’d spent like this! Three days of sweating, and coughing, and vivid dreams that wouldn’t leave him even when awake. He sighed again. At least the dreams when he was awake were somewhat more pleasant. 

 

There were benefits to being unwell, though. Greyback had been keeping out of his room, and most of the others followed his lead. One or two of them brought him food at Greyback’s orders, but other than that, he was left mostly to himself, which could never be a bad thing in a place like this. 

 

With a yawn he didn’t care to stifle, Remus felt fatigue once more draw him into the realm of dreams. Futilely, he tried to fight it, tried to fight the nightmares he knew would come. Yet it wasn’t time for nightmares yet. Before the nightmares, there were the memories. In the space between awake and asleep there were always the memories. 

 

_‘Moony! I’ve got the best idea ever!’  
_ _‘And what would that be?’_  
‘Hexing Evan’s quill to write “I love Potter” every time she tries to scribble her name?’  
‘She’s going to think Prongs did it.’  
‘See that’s the beauty of it – we’ll still be alive afterwards.’  
‘So we let her kill James instead?’  
‘Ahh, but she won’t kill him! She might not like it, but she fancies him alright. So what do you say? Are you in?’  
‘What do you think of me? Of course I’m in!’  

 

The laughter of jokes past rang in his ear as he slipped further into sleep. Sirius was there, right in front of him – if he reached out just a bit further, just a little bit more, he’d be able to... And then there was nothing. Sirius was gone, and there was a black void, and he called out to nothingness only to feel himself drowning–

 

He sat bolt upright up in bed, drawing long, deep breaths of air that made him cough and realise where he was. He hated nights like this – nights when he couldn’t get any proper sleep, where memories and nightmares followed each other. Taking a sip of the water from the glass he kept next to the bed, Remus tried to remember what memory it had been this time, hoping to gain some control of the situation by controlling his mind. 

 

A faint smile crossed his lips as he managed to recall the fleeting memory, and he could feel himself growing hard as he remembered what had happened afterwards. Sirius’s grin as he had wrestled him down on the narrow bed, their laughter as wrestling had turned to sloppy kisses and a frantic removal of robes. He remembered undoing Sirius’s trousers – letting his hand find its way down Sirius’s pants. He remembered Sirius’s gasp as he wrapped his hand around his cock, and his own when Sirius followed suit. 

 

They’d nearly come like that. Hands in each others pants, wanking each other while kissing and gasping and rubbing against each other. Nearly, but not quite. Both having learnt the signs of the other being close to release, they stopped before that could happen – both groaning in protest to the other’s actions. 

 

Tying Sirius up had been a whim, but a good one, as Sirius lying tied up, fighting his restraints while trying to get the release he so desperately wanted, was one of the most erotic things Remus had ever seen. Swallowing hard to steady himself, Remus had feasted on the sight before feasting on Sirius – licking, kissing, touching everywhere save where Sirius had wanted him most. Not until Sirius had begged had he relented, taking him deep into his mouth, relishing in the sounds that had spilled from Sirius’s mouth in response. 

 

He’d taken his time, sucking and licking Sirius’s cock, caressing his balls in the process. With teasing movements, he’d stopped every time Sirius was close, blowing cool air on the head of his cock until Sirius was nearly frantic and swearing to hex his bollocks off if he didn’t let him come soon. He’d chuckled and moved to kiss him on the mouth, and Sirius had arched to grind against him in a way that had had him panting for air as their cocks rubbed together. 

 

With a groan that sounded suspiciously like Sirius’s name, Remus threw his head back on the pillow as he came on his hand and stomach, remembering the feeling of coming together with Sirius, their come landing on both their stomachs as they’d lost the battle over their urges and given in to the pleasures that wrecked havoc in their bodies. Keeping his eyes closed to keep reality out for a bit longer, he remembered kissing, snuggling, and growing hard again as fast as only two teenage boys can. All pranks forgotten, it had taken many hours before either had remembered Lily’s quill. Had they even hexed it at all? He wasn’t sure anymore. Did it even matter? Reluctantly opening his eyes as the come on his stomach cooled, Remus reached out for his wand and cleaned himself up. With yet another yawn, he tried to make himself comfortable again, hoping that morning wasn’t too far away, that the nightmares wouldn’t claim him once more. As sleep won the battle over his will, he fell back on the pillow, Sirius’s name barely audible as it passed his lips. 


	9. Watching

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks (or rather Remus watching Tonks)  
 **Warnings this part** : Wanking, voyeurism  
 **Concrit** : Welcome

* * *

Even on the very morning, Remus was worried that he might be forced to miss dinner at the Burrow that evening. He had been sick far longer than he had expected, and on the evening itself he felt tired and worn. Still, there was nothing that could have kept him from going. Just the aspect of leaving Greyback’s lair was liberating, and the though of being stuck there when having somewhere else to be was intolerable. 

 

He arrived precisely on time, running into Mad-Eye just outside the door. After spending the next ten minutes proving his identity to Mad-Eye and another ten while Mad-Eye made Molly ask him to prove his – they were late. No one, however, seemed to care the least, and they were greeted by smiles and the smell of Molly’s wonderful cooking. 

 

Harry had grown a fair bit in the weeks that had passed since they last met on Kings Cross, and looked skinner than ever. It wasn’t Harry, though, that occupied Remus’s mind for most of the night. 

 

They hadn’t been there long before someone mentioned her name, and Remus nearly choked on his food when Harry mentioned her being there, crying, when he arrived a week ago. Luckily there hadn’t been any further discussion as to why she was crying, but the pointed look he received from Molly, told him she, if no one else, knew exactly why and that she didn’t approve. Remus frowned. Well at least he could honestly tell her that she had nothing to worry about. When Molly approached him and said she wanted to talk, he knew what to say and spoke up as soon as the door closed behind them, before she could tell him her objections. . 

 

“Molly, I know what you’re concerned about, but there is no need for you to worry. I will not delve into a relationship with Tonks, and I think I told her that–”

 

“That was a rather foolish thing to do, don’t you think?” Molly interrupted him, crossing her arms in front of her. 

 

“I’m sorry?” Remus asked, genuinely surprised. 

 

“I’ve seen how you look at her, Remus, and you cannot fool me into thinking you’re not interested,” Molly continued, daring him to try and lie to her. 

 

“Molly, surely _you_ see that it would be a horrible idea for the two of us…” he trailed off, not quite sure what to say. 

 

Molly snorted. “Nonsense! Why would it be?”

 

“Well for starters I’m a werewolf!” Remus exclaimed. 

 

“Which Tonks is well aware of,” Molly said plainly, as if that settled the matter completely. “Remus, if you are serious about not pursuing this, you are not only a fool for denying yourself happiness, but a cruel fool. You had no right to treat Tonks the way you did.” 

 

Remus sighed. He could argue the reasons not to be with Tonks as much as he wanted, but when it came to how he treated Tonks, he couldn’t deny that Molly was right. There had been no reason for him to be as harsh as he had. He could have taken the time to explain, to reason with her. Instead he’d treated her appallingly. 

 

“I was trying to–”

 

“You need to talk to her Remus,” Molly interrupted him. “Whatever your decision may be, you need to talk to her.”  

 

The rest of the evening moved at a snail’s pace. Remus knew Molly was right. He needed to explain himself properly, to convince Tonks that a relationship would be a bad idea without making her feel as if it was her fault. If anything it was his. He was the one who couldn’t overcome what he was. He was the one who craved her with such a hunger he feared himself to even be around her. By the time the night was finally over and he was free to go, he Apparated before he had the chance to change his mind.  

 

It was well after dakk when he arrived outside the small house she’d inherited from her grandmother, but the light was on inside, so he was certain she was still up. Drawing a deep breath, Remus collected himself and walked up the small path leading to the house, preparing himself for the conversation that was to come. 

 

He wasn’t sure what it was that caught his attention, what made him turn his head and look through the window, but whatever it was, the sight that met him made him stop dead in his tracks. Inside the dimly lit room, was Tonks, clad in nothing more than a white fluffy towel. Drawn like a moth to a flame, Remus moved closer to the partially opened window, watching as she moved around the room, preparing to go to bed. 

 

He nearly gasped out loud when she dropped the towel and kicked it away to the corner of the room. With the light from the bathroom behind her, she seemed almost to glow, and while she was too skinny and probably would be seen as having too small breasts by most men, Remus could think of little else he wanted to do than to push her down on her bed and claim her as his own. 

 

He knew of course that such thoughts were not productive given what he was there to do. That what he really should do was to move away from the window – either to do what he set out to do in the first place, or, better yet, leave altogether and just talk to her some other time. He didn’t, of course, but stood firm in his tracks watching as she reached for the lotion on her dressing table, and started rubbing it into her skin

 

Forced to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud he watched, mesmerised, as she slowly caressed herself. First her long slender legs, then her stomach, her arms – her breasts. He swallowed hard when he saw her nipples react to her touch, and he could easily imagine it being his hand instead of hers causing that reaction. When he heard her moan softly, he nearly bit through his lip as he moved his hand down to where his trousers suddenly seemed awfully tight. 

 

He hadn’t meant to touch himself, not like this. But when Tonks pinched her nipple with one hand while letting the other skim down to the thatch of brown hair between her thighs, he couldn’t help it. Undoing his fly, he released his cock, stroking it slowly up and down, using his thumb to spread the pre-come over the head. 

 

His breathing became faster and he was terrified of moaning out loud as he watched her. She’d thrown her head back and was looking so wanton it took all his will power not to crash right into the house. And then, as she decided to move to the bed to lie down he felt it – the scent of her arousal coming through the window. >Oh Merlin! It really was getting closer to the full moon! He would have never been able to smell that a week ago. 

 

Now though, he could, and the scent alone was almost enough to bring him over the edge. He stayed in control, however, biting his lip so hard it hurt as he mimicked her pace with his hand. She moved slowly, taking her time – her legs parted and her fingers circling her clit at a leisurely pace. She moaned, and bucked her hips, but her touch stayed light and so did his. 

 

From where he was standing he could see her clearly. He could see the soft glow of her pale skin, the long fingers that moved so tenderly against her clit. Her nipples were rock hard and pointing to the ceiling, her sex glistened from her juices and begged to be tasted, licked, fucked. She was gentle to herself – he was sure that had he been in there with her, he couldn’t have been gentle, even if he wanted to. 

 

She quickened her pace as she came close to climax, spreading her legs further apart and holding her breath as her fingers moved fast over her clit. Remus followed her pace and movement, circling his thumb over the head of his cock, now angrily red with held back release. As she arched her back and came, he too could feel the familiar tension in his groin. He came with a quiet gasp, listening to the soft, enticing cry coming from her lips as she shuddered with the force of her climax. 

 

Spent, and breathing heavily as a result, Remus drew his wand and silently muttered a cleaning charm before tucking himself in. He jumped, when he heard Tonks’s voice saying his name, but looking up at her, she still seemed unaware of his presence. With a thought of the great number of nights he had himself called out a name in vain, he finally moved away. He couldn’t talk to her now. It wouldn’t be right. Then again, nothing he’d done tonight had been right. 

 

Turning around he walked away, careful to step on the grass and not the gravelled path. He Disapparated as soon he was sure she couldn’t hear him, but didn’t relax until he was safely back in his room, showered and changed – any scent of his actions gone. With a sigh he crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to claim him the moment he put his head on the pillow. He was too tired to think about what he had just done. Too tired and too confused. With a sigh and a yawn, he welcomed the heaviness of his eyelids. He could think tomorrow – tonight he just needed his rest. 


	10. Regrets

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:**  Remus/OMC (Marrok), Greyback and others

**Warnings this part** : non-con, hate-sex, voyeurism

 

**May is over and the voting for the winner of Lusty Month of May Marathon over at pervy_werewolf has begun (and will continue until Saturday 3/6). If you like my story, please consider voting for it.**

* * *

The following week Remus stayed with the group, pretending that it had more to do with his assignment than the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Pretending or not, he had no desire to deal with the problems he had created just yet. In truth, he wasn’t sure he could deal with them. No matter how much he might wish otherwise, the fact that he was a werewolf wouldn’t go away. With no real hope of working things out, Remus stayed away, making sure not to leave the group, save for the trip necessary for collecting the Wolfsbane Potion from Snape. 

 

He had just finished hiding the potion in his cabinet, and left his room to take a shower, when he saw Marrok emerging from one of the rooms further down the dusk corridor. He didn’t look pleased, but then he rarely did, so Remus didn’t pay any real attention to him. He had learnt from experience that most of the time that was the best way to keep Marrok off his back.

 

Today it wasn’t. Why it was so, Remus had no idea, but before he had any chance to react, Marrok had attacked him and pushed him up against the wall. Not sure of what to do, Remus did nothing, hoping that Marrok would see his passiveness as victory and leave him alone. Again, he proved mistaken. 

 

With a nasty grin on his face, Marrok punched Remus hard in the gut, making him double over and sink to the floor as he temporarily lost his breath. Behind him he could hear Marrok laughing, and then he heard the unmistakable sound of a fly being unzipped before another blow landed on his back, leaving him doubled over on the floor again. 

 

With a shiver running down his spine, Remus felt Marrok grab his robes and shove them up around his waist. The shiver, however, was almost immediately replaced by a fiercely burning rage as Marrok roughly pushed his head into the floor – this was bad enough when it was Greyback, but having Marrok do it was more than Remus could take. His breath having returned, Remus pushed back with his entire weight, making Marrok lose his balance and fall back on the floor. 

 

There was a startled look in Marrok’s eyes as Remus turned – the look that could only be present in someone not used to being refused. But Remus didn’t care. Almost blinded by anger, he attacked, not caring where the punches landed or what harm they did. With every blow he grew angrier – the frustration and pain and heartache all welling up inside him, taking over as he punished Marrok for everything wrong in his life. 

 

Marrok yelped as he tried to fight back against an anger that was too deeply rooted, too desperate to be able to defend oneself against. Once the dam had burst Remus didn’t stop hitting, not until he heard the sounds of clapping hands behind him. 

 

“Well done, Remus. I didn’t know you had it in you,” he heard Greyback’s voice behind him. 

 

He froze, wondering what the punishment for beating up someone higher up in the hierarchy was. Greyback, however, did not sound displeased with him at all.  

 

“Well aren’t you going to collect your prize?” Greyback asked him. “Marrok already has his trousers down – seems it would be easy for you,” he added. 

 

Remus jerked his head up and stared at him, his mind so blank it nearly didn’t register the group of grinning people flanking him. Greyback couldn’t be serious. He didn’t ask him to do this. Being raped himself was horrible enough, the humiliation and pain hardly bearable – but the thought of causing that to someone else was even worse. Even if it was to a cruel and heartless jerk like Marrok, this was not something Remus could see himself doing. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had an erection, and looking at Marrok’s beaten face and body, it didn’t seem likely that he would get one either. How could he? The thought of touching or being touched by Marrok was in itself disgusting – the thought of raping him was utterly repulsive. 

 

“What’s the problem? Trouble getting it up?” a young man in the group behind Greyback snickered, attracting Remus’s attention. A couple of the others laughed with him and Remus shot them an angry glare.

 

“Take him now!” Greyback ordered impatiently. “Or he’ll assert his dominance with you,” he added, making Remus shudder again. 

 

Careful not to do anything rash, Remus considered the situation, trying to find a way out even as he realised that there would be none. In the corner of his eye, he could see Marrok moving, turning his back when Greyback signalled him to. As he turned his back to Greyback, Remus closed his eyes, trying to block out any sense of reality, just as he always did when Greyback raped him. It was harder this time, however – this demanded more than just an escape. This demanded a physical reaction he wasn’t sure he could ever provide. Revolted and feeling nauseous, Remus took a deep breath and allowed the images he had been blocking out for a whole week to finally fill his mind. Tonks’s naked body as she arched into her own touch, her skin glowing in the soft light, her voice, crying out softly as she came. When he opened his eyes again, he was still repulsed, but at least he had an erection and no physical problems when casting the lubrication charm on Marrok and sheathing himself inside his arse. 

 

He closed his eyes again as soon as he could, not remembering until then how long it had been since the last time he’d done this. How long it had been since that last heated time he’d spent with Sirius. Sirius on all fours in the staircase, both of them biting their lips so as to not wake up Mrs Black’s portrait. Both of them failing miserably to keep quiet as they came together, resulting in a shocked rant from the portrait until they managed to shut her up. 

 

Remus grunted as he came, the combination of the tightness around his cock and memories of times past too strong to resist. Marrok hadn’t come, he knew that – but then he really didn’t care, he was just happy it was over. Rising as quickly as he dared, Remus adjusted his clothes, purposely avoiding looking at Marrok who seemed to have some difficulty getting up. 

 

“Marrok, clean yourself up, you look a mess,” Greyback snarled to the man still on his knees. “And I’ll be expecting you both at dinner tonight. We’re having a guest,” he added before turning and heading for the stairs in the far end of the hallway. 

 

“A guest?” Marrok asked, supporting himself against he wall as he stood unsteadily. “Who?”

 

Greyback turned around, his eyes moving across the torn clothes and the blood on his face. 

 

“Do you really think I would tell that to someone your rank?” he snarled. 

 

“But I–”

 

“Just gambled away your place in this pack,” Greyback interrupted him, before leaving them both standing in the hallway by themselves. 

 

“I need a shower,” Marrok growled, giving Remus a hateful stare. 

 

“You can wait!” Remus cut him off, pushing him to the side as he hurried towards the bathroom. He understood perfectly well why Marrok wanted to shower, the feeling one he was only too familiar with. Still, he was in no mood to wait to wash Marrok off his own body either, the mere thought of not immediately doing so nauseating. Fighting the urge to throw up, he closed the door firmly behind him, and he leaned back against it with a groan. He had to force himself to move, to get the water running, but once it was he felt a wave of relief. 

 

Still as much as Remus wished it would, the water didn’t wash away the guilt he felt. With a despairing groan, he leaned forward against the cold tiles of the wall, letting the cold water spray over his back. __Dammit! How could he have let this happen_?_

 

>‘You’re one of the nicest men I know! You wouldn’t dream of hurting me.’ 

 

Tonks’s words rang like a mockery through his head, and a terse laugh erupted from within him. Raping someone should be harder than that; it shouldn’t have come so fucking easy! But it had. Granted, it hadn’t been his choice, and granted he would never have done it at all if there had been a choice – but beating Marrok to a bloody pulp __had__ been his choice! He could have stopped. He could have defended himself without letting things go that far. He could have stopped before Greyback walked into the hallway, before it all got out of hand. He hadn’t. And Tonks thought he was __nice__. What a cruel joke.  

 

Images of the past flashed before him as his vision became foggy from the water. Sirius in a dog collar. Sirius tied up. Sirius’s arse covered in angry red marks from his belt. He’d always thought it was just playing. That it was for fun, and for Sirius, and that they did it because Sirius got off on it. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was him, a part of his nature, a part of what Greyback had made him? Wouldn’t a normal person have had greater difficulties doing what he had done today? There had been no game in that – none whatsoever. And he’d still done it. 

 

Besides, even now, just the thought of Sirius in a dog collar got him hard and ready. The image so strong he couldn’t help but to reach down and wrap his hand around his cock and stroke it. __Blimey_ ,_ he was really warped, wasn’t he? And yet there was no escaping it. He __did__ get off on the image of Sirius wearing only a black leather collar around his neck and a cock ring around his prick, kneeling in front of him waiting for orders from Remus. He __did__ fist his cock harder, and moan louder when he thought of the look in Sirius’s eyes as he’d tugged the leash connected to the collar and told him to take him deep down his throat. He __had__ , many times, fucked Sirius’s mouth until he came, not allowing Sirius the same release until he was done. 

 

The groans coming from his lips as he stroked himself sounded odd and strange as they echoed off the tiled walls, and it wasn’t hard to remember another bathroom, another echo – the echo of Sirius begging to be fucked, to be allowed to come. He came as the Sirius of his memories did, eyes closed, head thrown back in ecstasy. Back in the dirty, grey-tiled bathroom, Remus just directed the spray of the shower to the wall, washing of the proof of his actions before he turned it off and stepped out to towel himself dry. 

 

In the harsh light of the Muggle lighting in the room, the past week suddenly seemed clear to him. He had, as much as he tried to deny it, allowed himself to fantasise about the possibility of a relationship with Tonks. Since he’d seen her like that, stretched out naked on the bed with taut nipples and spread legs, he had enjoyed thinking about it. That was why he had put off going to see her again – afraid that seeing might either kill any hope there was, or start something he didn’t thinks she could handle. Now he knew what it __had__ to be. He couldn’t subject her to what he was, what he wanted and desired. She wasn’t like Sirius, she was different. She’d touched herself with such delicate care – he would never be able to touch her like that. He’d break her, and that was something he’d never forgive himself for. No matter what came, he could never allow himself to falter again. There would be no more hope, no more fantasies. Not today, not tomorrow – not ever again.


	11. The Guest

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Greyback/Remus

**Concrit** : yes please

 

* * *

Their voices, carried through the closed door as Remus approached, made him speed up. He had made sure to be ready well in time for dinner, but apparently he was still going to be the last one to arrive in the room – a fact he was not at all content with. Stressed, he opened the door in a rush, not even stopping to consider who the mystery guest inside might be and what that could mean. He stopped short, however, the moment his eyes fell on her – realising that he should have been prepared. As it was, he wasn’t prepared for the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange at all. 

 

She didn’t see him immediately, but was rather caught up in the conversation she was having with Greyback. Unable to stop the feeling of hatred, rage and wish for vengeance, Remus reached for his wand, halting only as he felt the wood against his fingers, breathing heavily to try and force himself to regain control. 

 

“What is __he__ doing here?” 

 

It was Bellatrix’s shrill voice that had cut through the chatter of the room, and before Remus could react, she had drawn her wand and was firing a spell at him. The hex missed only because Greyback lunged forward and grabbed her arm before she had time to finish the incantation for whatever spell it was she had shot off. 

 

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing, woman!” he roared at her, not even noticing how Remus had raised his wand and held it readily aimed at Bellatrix. 

 

It would be easy to take her down now, and the temptation was almost overwhelming. But Remus kept his cool – for now at least. 

 

“Let go of me!” Bellatrix shouted, jerking her arm free only to find her wand still in Greyback’s hand. Ignoring that fact she continued. “What is a member of the Order of the Phoenix doing here?” she asked. 

 

“Remus, a member of the Order of the Phoenix?” Greyback laughed. “He’s a werewolf, Bellatrix – since when did the other side listen to one of us? Even the Dark Lord prefers you to come to check up on us rather than to trust us, and we’re supposed to be his allies,” he continued, not even glancing in Remus’s direction. 

 

He was, however, the only one that didn’t glance at Remus right now. The other werewolves held him fixed with their eyes, watching to see if he made a move. Marrok, especially, glared at him through the narrow slits that were his eyes now when the swelling from Remus’s punches had set in. And even with his eyes barely visible, it was clear to see that he would take any excuse to tear Remus to pieces if he could. 

 

“Obviously, the Dark Lord was right about the need to,” Bellatrix snapped. “Lupin is a member of the Order of the Phoenix as surely as I am loyal to the Dark Lord. I know, because my late cousin’s house-elf told me about what went on in that house. He told us about how Lupin and my cousin were lovers,” she said glaring at Remus, as if daring him to move against her. 

 

Remus didn’t, even as he shuddered at having __her__ , of all people, mention Sirius, he stayed absolutely still – neither moving nor speaking. 

 

“Well, is that true?” Marrok growled to Remus, his eyes gleaming with poorly suppressed glee. 

 

“Of course it is!” Bellatrix answered him in Remus’s stead. 

 

“I was asking Lupin,” Marrok growled back, not letting Remus out of his sight. 

 

Realising that he would be forced to answer, Remus glared back at Marrok, pretending not to be as worried about this as he was – knowing that if all hell broke loose, he’d at least make sure to bring Bellatrix down with him in the fall. 

 

“So what if it is?” he said casually, thinking it better not to lie in front of Greyback if he could avoid it.

 

“You had a relationship with a member of the Order of the Pheonix?” Melanie Farkas said as she stepped up to stand alongside Marrok. “And you think that it doesn’t matter where your loyalties lie?” 

 

“Lay – not lie!” Remus’s said calmly. “Or do you honestly think I would be so stupid as to try and fool Greyback about something like that? Or that he would be so foolish as to buy into the lie?” he added, hoping that playing on Greyback’s high opinion of himself would work in his favour. 

 

“You still had a–”

 

“That’s enough Melanie!” Greyback interrupted. “That’s enough from all of you!” he said, glancing around the room before he finally turned back to Bellatrix. “I am not a foolish man, Bellatrix, and I can smell betrayal from miles away – literally. Remus is my pup, my __loyal__ pup. Wherever he has gone astray before does not matter now. He is __mine__ , and will remain so. I will not have my pack questioned, by you __or__ by anyone else,” he snarled, handing back her wand to her. 

 

“I’d think you’d better forsake dinner tonight, Bellatrix,” he then continued in a dismissive tone. “And do tell the Dark Lord that next time he sends someone to keep an eye on us, he should send someone with less intent of interfering with my pack!” he added while ushering her to the door. 

 

Bellatrix glared at Remus as she passed him, and looked like she wanted to protest. She didn’t. Apparently even Bellatrix seemed hesitant to pick a quarrel with Greyback. Remus never thought he’d be grateful for something like that. 

 

“Remus, I want to see you in your room, now!” Greyback said firmly, the moment Bellatrix was out the door. 

 

Apprehensive, but feeling he had no other choice, Remus nodded and lead the way to his room, where Greyback not only closed but locked the door behind them as they stepped inside. 

 

“When exactly had you thought of telling me about this past of yours?” he asked as Remus turned around. 

 

“Never?” Remus suggested, again thinking truth would outweigh the lie. “After all, you didn’t seem to care that much about what I’d done in the past,” he added quickly. 

 

“You mean I never asked,” Greyback stated, surprisingly enough looking rather amused at this answer. 

 

Remus nodded. 

 

“Nevertheless, you should have told me this particular thing,” Greyback said firmly. “I do not like the thought of Bellatrix running back to the Dark Lord to tell him we have spies in the group, which is undoubtedly what she’ll do,” he continued.

 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that she was the guest,” Remus said. 

 

“Of course not, I hadn’t told you,” Greyback retorted, rolling his eyes. “By the way, why do you hate her so much?” he then asked, pinning Remus with his eyes. 

 

“She…she killed Sirius – my lover, as she referred to him,” Remus answered, swallowing hard at the task of admitting that. 

 

“Ahh,” Greyback said with a smile. “Well you’ll have to control yourself. I can’t very well work with the Dark Lord if one of my pups runs off and tries to kill his Death Eaters – and do not try to fool me into believing you didn’t want to do just that,” Greyback said, shooting of a glance to Remus that told him that lying about this would be a very bad idea indeed. 

 

Then his expression softened, and he moved to stand closer to Remus. “Once the war is over, and the Dark Lord has killed the others for us, we’ll turn on him and show him who is really in charge,” he hissed, running a long claw-like along the line of Remus’s lips. “Then you can do whatever you want with Bellatrix Lestrange – I’ll give her to you, if you want her. To kill her, own her – whatever you want, as long as you are loyal to me,” he nearly whispered, and for the first time Remus felt himself be tempted. “Now kneel and show me what a loyal pup you are,” Greyback finished, watching him as he obeyed. 

 

As he unzipped Greyback’s trousers, and took his large cock in his mouth, it was the first time he didn’t close his eyes and think of Sirius. Instead the only image in his mind as Greyback fucked his mouth, thrusting deep inside his throat, was that of Bellatrix, falling through the same veil as Sirius had. When Greyback growled and came inside his mouth, he swallowed and pictured her face distorted by the pain she had inflicted on so many others. It was a far more seductive thought that he would have wished it to be. 


	12. Birthday

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:** Remus/his hand, Kingsley/Tonks, Remus

**Warnings/kinks this part:** wanking, oral sex, partially clothed sex, wand play

**Concrit** : Very welcome

* * *

The Burrow almost seemed a refuge when Harry’s birthday party finally arrived. To be stuck in Greyback’s lair was starting to feel suffocating, not to mention dangerous in a way Remus had never anticipated at all. He had tried to keep contact with the order as regularly as possible, but between the last full moon and now there hadn’t been that many opportunities that didn’t involve full blown meetings, and since he was still avoiding Tonks, he was avoiding those as well. 

 

It felt great to be back at the Burrow again, the place as welcoming as always even if Molly frowned and huffed disapprovingly when the conversation drifted to subjects of war and death. Still, it felt necessary to talk about those things, especially in front of Harry. Remus had a feeling that if he didn’t, Molly might very well try to keep bad news away from him in her efforts to protect him. With the war in full swing, and Harry stuck in the middle of it, he needed all the information he could get. 

 

The one thing that nagged him the entire afternoon, though, was Tonks’s absence from the party. He had thought that she’d certainly be there, and while mostly dreading the meeting, he still felt let down that she wasn’t there. 

 

Whether it was missing her, or the knowing glances and pointed glares from Molly that made Remus head directly to Tonks after the party, he wasn’t sure. Whichever it was, he arrived determined to talk to her and left disappointed at finding her not at home. 

 

It was with a sigh he headed over to Order headquarters instead, but he did so knowing that Snape would have left another batch of Wolfsbane Potion for him there to pick up. It seemed odd to pick it up so soon after the last full moon, seeing how he didn’t need it for another few weeks, but Mad-Eye had thought it best to have it now, when no one would be suspicious of what he brought with him. Remus wasn’t at all sure about the plan. To him it seemed a perfectly horrible idea to keep the potion in his cabinet for longer than necessary, but since he was out of Greyback’s house for the day and didn’t know when that would happen again; he decided that he might as well pick the bottles up. 

 

He had just found the bottles in the kitchen and was heading for the door when he heard their voices. He would have been able to distinguish Tonks’s voice anywhere, and Kingsley’s was too deep and rich for anyone to be mistaken about. 

 

They seemed to be in the drawing room, just a few feet away from where he was now standing. Indecisively, Remus stood still, pondering what to do. He could leave – the front door was closer than the door to the drawing room. It would be easy to quietly slip away and they would never know he had been there. Then again, he had been meaning to talk to Tonks earlier – deal with the situation he had created. This could be as good as opportunity as he’d ever get, and so he opted for staying. As unpleasant as the conversation might be – there was no point in putting it off any longer.

 

With a deep breath, Remus crossed the short distance to the drawing room door, only to stop as Tonks’s and Kingsley’s voices travelled out through the doorway. There was something in Tonks’s voice, she sounded upset, and Kingsley concerned. Worried, Remus peered into the room, only to feel a violent surge of jealousy run through him as he saw them sitting close on the sofa – too close as far as he was concerned and Kingsley already had his hand on her knee. 

 

The jealousy leaving him panting, Remus ducked back behind the wall again, trying to steady his breathing while fighting the urge to run inside and tear Kingsley to pieces. He had no right, he reminded himself. He couldn’t possibly expect Tonks not to find someone else to bestow her emotions. He had turned her down; it was only fair. Unfortunately the feeling of rage in his gut didn’t seem to be convinced of this logic. 

 

Almost overwhelmed by the burning desire to cause Kingsley severe physical pain, Remus barely heard more than a few words of what they were saying. Not until his own name was mentioned did he snap to attention, and even then it was mostly because of the sorrow in Tonks’s voice as she protested against whatever it was Kingsley had said that made him focus. As he listened a thought struck him. This wasn’t her – this wasn’t how she usually was. His head leant back on the wall; Remus wondered where the carefree, life-embracing Tonks had gone, and if it was his fault that she had disappeared. Kingsley, at least, seemed to think it was. 

 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, it’s not healthy,” he said, his deep, rich voice as filled with concern as hers was of sadness. “We all worry about you – __I__ worry about you,” he added, dropping his voice just a tad as he emphasised himself, making no pretence to hide his intentions. Annoyed, Remus clenched his jaw and fisted his hands, his will the only thing stopping him from moving. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, go in there and physically throw Kingsley from the room, as tempting as the thought seemed. 

 

“Kingsley, I’m fine,” Tonks lied, her voice only betraying her far too well. 

 

“No Tonks, you’re not!” Kingsley said firmly. “Don’t ask me to pretend that you are. You’re not fine – you can’t even change your appearance anymore!” Kingsley insisted. 

 

“Look, whatever the spell Bellatrix–” Tonks began.

 

“Stop lying!” Kingsley exclaimed. “We both know it isn’t the spell. St. Mungo’s says you’re just fine physically – yet your problems morphing are only getting worse! How long has it been since you even tried to change?” he insisted, and even in his jealous state Remus couldn’t deny that there wasn’t a point to what Kingsley was saying. 

 

“Then what do you want me to say?” Tonks snapped back. “That I feel as if someone dropped me into a huge dark lake and that  I’m drowning while trying to find the surface?” 

 

“If that is what you feel like, then yes,” Kingsley said softly. Even though he couldn’t see, Remus could easily imagine how he was putting his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer while the hand on her knee moved just a fraction of an inch higher up. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Tonks. What Remus–”

 

“It’s not just Remus, Kingsley. If it was only that…” she trailed off, sounding tired. “I just – It’s everything. Remus, Sirius – the fact that I seem to mess up anything that comes my way.”

 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Kingsley asked, but Remus didn’t have to, he knew far too well what she meant, and that it was completely his fault. 

 

“If I hadn’t let Bellatrix get the best of me, if I’d held out–”

 

“Tonks no! Sirius’s death was her fault – not yours!” Kingsley said firmly. 

 

“You really believe that? Because I don’t. I messed up – just as I messed up any chance I had with Remus when I demanded–”

 

“What Remus said to you was cruel, and probably a lie. He’s too much of a coward to tell you his real reasons,” Kingsley objected, and even as he felt the jealousy flame up within him again, Remus still knew that Kingsley was right. “Tonks,” his voice softened. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You need to move on, find someone else. Not all of us are as blind as Remus Lupin.”

 

Unable to stand another minute of listening to them, Remus fled the house – Apparating to the first place he could think of where he’d be left completely alone – the Shrieking Shack. It looked like it always had – dark, dusty, dirty – but Remus hardly saw how the place looked, his mind filled with jealously induced images of Kingsley and Tonks. He felt sure Kingsley wouldn’t have waited much longer. He was probably kissing her by now – brushing his full lips over hers, gently at first, then with more power as he pried her lips apart with his own, claiming her mouth completely. 

 

She would possibly object at first, but she would see sense. He would make her. Kingsley was a handsome man, clearly interested. He wasn’t poor and he certainly wasn’t a werewolf. No, he was handsome and smart – and one who went after what he wanted. Tonks would give in, seeing sense. She would let him claim her mouth first, then she would let him show her how much he wanted her. 

 

They wouldn’t bother to move, but stay on the sofa. Kingsley would lean her back against the armrest, slowly undoing the clasps of her robes, moving his lips to kiss every newly exposed patch of skin. He wouldn’t take her robes off though, not while still at headquarters. Instead he would simply allow them to fall open as he watched her body, calling her beautiful. She would accept his words with a smile or maybe tell him that her breasts are too small – women were often foolish about things like that, after all. If she did, he would tell her they’re perfect, backing up his words with actions as he’d capture one of her nipples in his mouth, making her gasp with pleasure. 

 

He would take his time, tease her until she was panting and writhing beneath him, begging him for more. Not until then would he move further down, still taking his time, moving slowly until he reached that thatch of brown curls between her thighs. He would spread her open, lazily running his tongue along her folds, flicking it quickly but lightly over her clit – just as she had moved her fingers. He would make her moan with need, arch her back and beg for more. He wouldn’t give her what she wanted, not immediately. He would tease her first. Lick her clit until she was on the edge, ready to come. That’s when he would ease his fingers inside her, curling them slightly to hit the spot that would make her call out for more. Or maybe he would use his wand? Make it vibrate slightly and then run it up the inside of her thigh, sending shivers of pleasure through her, driving her nearly insane. Maybe he would push it inside her, letting the vibrations fill her with sensations until she fell apart, crying out in her climax. 

 

He would let her come first, before he moved to undress himself, to let his own robes hang open. Did he wear trousers under his robes? Remus didn’t think so. They would hang open around him as he stroked himself to get ready. He wouldn’t be small, or even average. No, with his broad shoulders and large hands, he would definitely be bigger than most. 

 

He would stroke himself slowly, spreading his pre-come on the head of his cock before he moved to push inside her. She would be ready, eager, wanton – and yet he would take it slowly, allow her to adjust to the feeling of having him inside her. Hungry for more, she would wrap her long legs around him, pushing him deeper inside her, urging him on. 

 

Her skin would look so pale in comparison to his – a bold contrast between the two. They would probably appreciate the beauty of it, but not until later. Not until they were both spent, lying tangled, listening to each other’s breaths. In their lovemaking, there would be no time for that. They would hold on tight, Kingsley cupping her breast with his hand while he captured Tonks’s mouth with his own. Their moans and gasps would be lost to the world, swallowed by the other as they came together. 

 

He wondered how long they would cuddle – of where they would cuddle. Would they stay on the sofa, lying close together, Kingsley’s head on her chest as he listened to the beating of her heart? Or would Kingsley take her home, tucking them both beneath the covers before they fell asleep?

 

With a strangled cry and the image of Tonks etched into his mind, Remus felt the hot, sticky seed on his hand. His teeth still grinding together, Remus wiped his hand on the cushion of a broken sofa. He would have to stop this; he would have to get her off his mind. They could never be together, and she was right if she moved on. He needed to do the same thing. Whatever it took, he had to get her off his mind. 


	13. Caught

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part:** None  
 **Warnings this part** : Hints of non-con, hints of possible chan  
 **Concrit** : Yes please

* * *

The week before the full moon was always the hardest. Greyback’s acute sense of smell only heightened at that time, and the group grew more suspicious of each other with every new day. Taking Wolfsbane Potion in such a situation was always a risk, and Remus didn’t care how cleverly disguised the bottles of potion were – he was still only a sip away from being caught. It took three full moons, however, until he actually was. 

 

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been caught before that made him careless enough not to check that the door was properly closed, or maybe it was something else. Either way, it didn’t take long before he found himself standing before Greyback and the others, just as he had on the first day of arrival, with no clue as to why he was there. 

 

He did know, though, that it could not be good. Melanie Farkas practically beamed with glee as she watched him, and Marrok and Lucien both looked awfully pleased as well. It wasn’t until Greyback spoke, however, that Remus’s insides went cold with fear. 

 

“Melanie here says that she saw you, in your room, hiding something you shouldn’t have been hiding,” Greyback said, his voice as calm as it only was when he was absolutely serious – his nose sniffing the air. For betrayal, Remus thought, or maybe for signs of nervousness. 

 

“What was it that I supposedly hid?” Remus asked, as casually as he could, pretending not to have the faintest idea of what was being talked about. Melanie snorted, and several of the others sniggered. There weren’t many in the room that had fully accepted him yet. 

 

“Why don’t you tell us, that?” Greyback said as calmly as before. 

 

Ignoring the chill running down his spine, Remus smiled lightly. “That would be simple – if there was only something to tell. As things are now, I haven’t got a clue,” he said hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. 

 

“Liar!” Melanie erupted. “I saw you! I saw you take something out of the cabinet in your room even though it looked completely empty. You did something with it and put it back, and the cabinet still looked empty!” she accused him. 

 

Remus didn’t have time to respond, for the very moment she was finished, Greyback had risen from his seat and walked over to her. “Say that again!” he hissed. 

 

Suddenly looking very uncertain, and with her voice very much weaker when she spoke to Greyback and not to him, Melanie repeated her words, some of them barely perceptible. Her yelp when Greyback stuck her with the back of his hand was all the more audible.

 

“You led me to believe that you’d seen something substantial, and all you saw was an empty cabinet __maybe__ containing something that Remus __might__ have done something with?” Greyback roared furiously. “You completely wasted my time with silly nonsense, accusing Remus – one of __my__ pups – of something you couldn’t even prove?” he continued to roar. Even though Melanie had tried to expose him, Remus couldn’t help but to feel sorry for her as she sank to her knees in front of Greyback, tears falling from her eyes and spreading over in her long black eyelashes. 

 

Greyback, though, didn’t seem to care at all, but went on in the same manner as before. “Have you completely forgotten your place? Have you forgotten everything I have done for you? How I saved you from your parents when you were still a child? How I allowed you your revenge on them for trying to deny you your nature?” he yelled, leaning over her shrunken form on the floor as he shouted. 

 

Remus shuddered. It was all too easy to imagine Greyback kidnapping a child, forcing it to kill or maim its own parents ‘in gratitude’. How long had Melanie been allowed to still be a child in Greyback’s care? How long had it taken before she was forced to show her loyalty in the same manner that they all seemed to do? Melanie was sobbing now, clinging to Greyback as a small child would cling to its parent. Unlike a parent, Greyback shoved her back and kept yelling at her. 

 

“Is this how you repay me for taking you in? For giving you what you craved? By putting yourself over one of my pups, shamelessly accusing them of things you can’t prove?” he shouted. 

 

Melanie shook her head violently. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Reluctantly watching Melanie move to stand on her knees before Greyback, Remus expected to see her be forced to ‘repent’ in front of them much like Marrok had months ago. Yet as Greyback grabbed and pulled her hair, it was not to force her to give him pleasure, but to throw her, nearly across the room, to where Remus was standing. 

 

“I’m not the one you should apologise to,” Growled growled. 

 

Forced to resist the urge to bend down and help her to her feet, Remus stood still – watching Greyback, watching Melanie, waiting for what would happen next. He wasn’t the only one waiting. The others all watched them intently, waiting to see what he would do, what Melanie would do. What she did was get up on her knees, her face bent down as she quietly apologised to him, her voice strained with a forced sincerity that Remus didn’t think she meant for a second. 

 

Nevertheless, Greyback seemed pleased and waved his hand dismissively at the both of them. 

                                                                                                                             

“You can take her away now, Remus, she’s yours to do with as you please,” he said casually before turning his back completely to them. “Marrok – you brought her to me, you allowed her to waste my time,” he said venomously. 

 

Remus didn’t stay for what followed. Already having been excused, he grabbed Melanie by the arm and pulled her with him to his room, not sure of what he would do with her once he had her there, but wanting to get her out of Greyback’s path nonetheless. 


	14. Almost Enough

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/OFC (Melanie)

**Warnings this part:** slightly dub-con (at first), D/s  
 **Concrit** : Welcome

* * *

 

He let her go the moment they were inside the confines of his room. He wasn’t sure what to do now though, and for a moment Melanie too seemed to hesitate. Her hesitation didn’t last for long, and she quickly sank to her knees on the floor in the middle of the room – waiting.  

“What are you doing?” Remus asked, not sure what she wanted or expected him to do, even if he were able to make a fair guess. 

 

“What Greyback told me to do!” she answered, looking a bit thrown back at his lack of action. “He gave me to you to use, so use me,” she continued, obviously trying hard to sound submissive but not managing to get the defiant glint out of her eyes completely. She still didn’t trust or like him. 

 

When he didn’t move, she sighed and proceeded to unclasp her robes. “I should have reckoned you were a watcher,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear, but silent enough to pretend the words never left her mouth. 

 

For a moment, Remus felt tempted, her defiant manners tickling his will to dominate. He shook the feeling quickly – refusing to even fantasise about taking a woman who so blatantly did not want him, even if she was undressing in his room. 

 

“Stop that!” he said tersely, turning away from her while trying to figure out what to do. 

 

“So then what do you want me to do?” she asked, sounding just a tad too impatient with him for someone so seemingly submissive. 

 

The idea the struck him was dangerous, and it could mean the end of him – but it was also a way of possibly gaining her trust, and being her enemy had certainly not been working well given events today. 

 

“Search the room,” he said calmly, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. “Find whatever it was you think I was hiding,” he added, pulling out his wand to magically light the candles in the room providing her with light while at the same time secretly removing one of the protective spells on the cabinet with a wordless spell, feeling it would be better if she found something than if she didn’t. 

 

“You want me to search your room?” she asked sounding bewildered. “The cabinet too?” she added. 

 

Remus nodded and watched with bated breath while she approached the piece of furniture. He swallowed hard as she opened the door, knowing exactly what she’d find, hoping she wouldn’t know the same. 

 

“I was right, you are hiding things!” she said triumphantly, pulling out a bottle of potion from the cabinet – it looked, as Remus had known it would, just like a bottle of butterbeer. “Why didn’t you just admit to this out there?” she asked, giving the bottle a shake that made Remus rather nervous.

 

“Because I like to keep my butterbeer for myself,” he said, getting up from the chair and grabbing the bottle from her hand. The look of the bottle may be harmless, but if she dropped the bottle, or smelled or tasted the liquid inside, she’d know that it wasn’t butterbeer even if she’d never been in contact with Wolfsbane potion in her life. 

 

Her expression was still one of glee when he looked down on her. “Greyback will–”

 

“Greyback will think you’re a fool if you bring this up,” Remus interrupted her. “Last I checked he quite liked to keep his firewhiskey to himself. But if you really think it worth bothering him over some butterbeer, then by all means go ahead,” he finished, quite enjoying the conflict in her eyes as she pondered his words. 

 

“No, no – you’re right. I shouldn’t waste Greyback’s time,” she said quietly, looking down on her hands, resting in her lap. 

 

With a sigh of relief which he hoped she wouldn’t hear, Remus squeezed past her kneeling form to the cabinet to put the bottle inside with the others. Feeling a bit safer once the door was closed and the spell to hide them from sight cast again. 

 

When he turned, Melanie was still kneeling on the floor. 

 

“You don’t have to stay,” he said plainly. 

 

She looked up at him with surprise written across her face. “Grayback was very clear – I’m yours,” she said, sounding almost scared. “Am I not pleasing enough?” she then asked with a sensual smile, reaching out for the buckle of Remus’s belt. A smile and a move she’d no doubt learnt in order to keep Greyback happy. 

 

Remus grabbed her arms before she had the chance to fulfil the task she had given herself. “Don’t,” he said simply, trying to ignore the beginning of an erection that made his trousers seem a bit too tight at that moment. It was only natural to react, he told himself – it had nothing to do with wanting to dominate her. 

 

“You’re rejecting me?” she said, now definitely sounding scared. “But you can’t! Greyback’s orders – he’ll think I refused!” she whimpered, seemingly close to panic. 

 

“There will be no need to tell him,” Remus said, determined not to fall for the temptation of a warm body in his bed, helping him forget about full moons and Greyback and – most of all – of Tonks. As desperate as Melanie seemed, he still knew she wasn’t there by choice, that she didn’t even like him or trust him. He would not take advantage of her fear of Greyback. He simply would not. 

 

“He’ll know!” she argued. “He knows these things – he smells them, you ought to know that by now,” she said, her voice high pitched. As much as he wanted, though his body might not want to as much as his mind, Remus couldn’t deny that she had a point. 

 

“I’m good at pleasing,” Melanie tried, smiling again as she tilted her head and tried to work her arms free from a grip that Remus only now realised must be painfully hard. 

 

A bit guilty, Remus loosened his grip as he tried to make his mind function properly. Melanie was undoubtedly a rather beautiful woman even in spite of being marked by a bitterness he could only understand too well. Her hair looked soft and shiny, her eyes intrigued him and the rather blatant view her position offered him of her breasts through the previously opened clasps of her robes did little to help his resolve. 

 

Maybe it would be for the best? Maybe it would give his mind the rest that it needed. Rest from thinking about what would happen during the coming full moon, rest from the images of Tonks that were still haunting his mind after months of avoiding her. Images of her pleasing herself in her bed. Of her making love to Kingsley, or someone else – the men in his mind changed from time to time. Yet the fact that he knew that it was just a figment of his own imagination did little to stop the images from causing him pain when he was alone in his bed at night. Maybe a woman in his bed would? Maybe doing what Greyback had ordered them to would help get Tonks out of his mind, and if he helped out Melanie out in the process that wouldn’t hurt, would it?

 

“Please,” she said softy, like a predator sensing his will weakening. Looking at her, Remus finally let her hands go, groaning when she immediately unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, taking him in her mouth all the way to the root, cupping his balls with her hand while playing with her tongue along the underside of his cock. Remus groaned as he slumped back against the cabinet doors, the sensations overwhelming. The heat of her mouth, the softness of her hair as it brushed against his thigh – it would be so easy to give in. 

 

The rush of climax threatening too soon, after forcing himself to fight the images in his mind for too many nights, Remus reluctantly pushed her away. For some reason he didn’t quite understand he wanted more than her lips around his cock and coming in her mouth – he wanted someone to bury himself inside – someone who made him forget, if only for a moment. 

 

She yelped a bit in surprise when he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up, but she didn’t protest when he moved them both over to the narrow bed or when he proceeded to hurriedly try to unclasp her robes. Realising his desire, Melanie helped him – a knowing smile on her lips telling Remus she’d been in situations like these too many times in her life, and yet he doubted that she would realise just how odd the situation really was. 

 

Her robes removed, Remus took the sight of her body, her breasts full and firm, if a bit too big for his actual taste, her body lean and well trained – a predator’s body, he thought, the image of her ferociousness as a wolf flashing before his mind. Her olive skin was smooth to his touch albeit marred with scars only too similar to his own. She too must have once been locked up during transformations – probably before Greyback took her from her parents. 

 

Tracing one of the scars with his finger, he realised that she, if any woman, would not be hurt by anything he did. That no matter what, she would most definite have experienced worse – she would not break, but bend to his will or fight him – whichever she chose. 

 

She gasped when he bent down and traced her collarbone with his tongue, momentarily distracted from her aim to please by the pleasure given to her. Her distraction didn’t last long, and far too soon she spread her legs waiting for him to take what he wanted. Remus had other plans. If he were to take a woman who did not like him to bed, he would at least make sure she liked the act – somehow it seemed less perverted that way. 

 

Taking her hands in his own when she tried to push his trousers down his hips, he placed them firmly above her head, not letting go until she nodded her understanding of him wanting her to keep them there. Still watching her, Remus removed his shirt, but left his trousers on. A moan spilled from her lips, and she arched her back into his hand as he cupped her breast and let his tongue dance once more on her skin, this time letting it trail a path from her neck to her breast before he twirled it around her nipple, sucking the nub into his mouth. 

 

She kept her hands above her head as he moved his mouth from one breast to the other, when he moved his mouth further down, when he kissed the inside of her spread thighs. When he flicked his tongue over her clit, she grabbed a hold of the headboard and bucked her hips violently in response, gasping and panting, as if the sensation was too much to handle. Still she didn’t touch him, didn’t remove her hands from above her head, apparently as used to obeying as she was seemingly unused to experiencing pleasure. 

 

Urged on by her strong reactions and the full taste of a woman, Remus grabbed Melanie’s hips and held her firmly in place, moving his tongue, first slowly and languidly as he licked her pink folds, and then swift and forceful as he reached her clit. Again and again, he repeated the move – lazy and unhurried, then fast and intense – until Melanie was so close a single lick could send her over the edge, her knuckles nearly white as her grip tightened around the headboard. 

 

Not wanting her to come just yet, Remus stopped, moving to kiss the inside of her thigh once more. Her groan of protest was loud as she tried to arch off the bed, fighting the grip he had on her hips. Remus growled at her to stop, knowing that she would undoubtedly have bruises from his fingers if she kept going. He didn’t want to hurt her – or mark her. She wasn’t the one he wanted as his, even if she would do as a substitute for now. 

 

He removed his hand from her hip when she settled down, running his fingers along her folds spreading her juices before he slowly pushed a finger inside her. The moan that spilled from her lips seemed to fill the room, and so he added another finger, curling them slightly to hit that spot within her. She gasped loudly as he started fucking her with his fingers, fighting not to buck her hips so hard her legs were beginning to shake. Pleased by her strong reactions, Remus leaned down and blew hot air on her clit, feeling her shudder before he finally gave in and ran his tongue over it again. A few swipes was all it took before she came with a cry, her body convulsing in a way that once more made him think that she was not at all used to receiving pleasure. 

 

She looked ashamed when she calmed down, almost uncertain. As Remus moved to kiss her neck and shoulder, he noticed tears on her face. 

 

__No, she was most definitely not used to this._ _

 

“I moved my hips,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I did not obey.”

  
Remus smiled at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied softly, kissing her cheek before he told her to let go of the headboard. 

 

She watched him as he sat up and removed his trousers, reaching out for his erection once they were off, moving to take him into her mouth. He leaned back, allowing her to move freely as he wrapped one of his hands in her soft hair, guiding her pace; ready to hold her back if he got him too close. He didn’t want to come like this; he wanted to come buried deep inside her. Not that stopping her would be an easy task. The way she alternated licking and sucking, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock only to take him fully into her mouth felt heavenly. She had been trained well, probably from a young age, but Remus would be damned if she did not come one more time before he did. 

 

With a deep groan of protest against his own actions, Remus pulled her off, lying her back down on the bed, grinding himself against her, coating his cock in her juices. She shuddered with lust as he brushed against her clit, a gasp escaping her lips. Confident that she was ready, Remus positioned himself and thrust inside her, groaning when he felt her around his cock. 

 

She clenched her cunt tight around him, moving her hips in small circles that had him gasping for air and forced him to hold on to her hips once more to stop himself from coming at once. When he started moving again, it was in his own pace – one he knew he could hold for the length of time he would need. She moaned when he ground himself against her clit, and wrapped her legs around his waist to push him deeper as he sped up his pace slightly. His grip on her hips was still tight, but Remus no longer cared about the bruises they might cause, too preoccupied with the way her cunt felt around his cock. He growled and licked her neck when she dug her nails into his shoulders, the pain helping him to stay focused, to ground himself against her in a way that would stimulate her as much as him. 

 

She came with another loud cry, her nails painfully leaving marks on his skin, her legs clutching tight around his waist as her cunt convulsed around his erection. Finally letting go of control, Remus felt his balls tighten with release just seconds before he spilled inside her, groaning into the nape of her neck as he emptied himself completely, allowing her to milk him of every last drop before he pulled out and moved them around so that she was resting on him, rather than the other way around. 

 

She didn’t speak, and neither did he, more comfortable with the silence than he would have been with the conversation. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. What did you say to a woman that fucked you only because she’d been told to? He pushed the thought from his mind and the guilt from his gut, justifying his actions with the fact that he’d made her willing in body, if not in mind. 

 

On looking down Remus noticed that Melanie had fallen asleep, her face prettier than normal when the bitterness gave way to the relaxation that came with sleep. With a sigh, he decided not to wake her but reached instead for his wand, lying on the floor with his clothes. With a few flicks he’d moved the chair into the middle of the room and transfigured the bed to become wider. Once he’d put out the light, he let his wand fall to the floor again as sleep crept up on him as well. He almost managed to fall asleep without the image of Tonks flashing before his eyes – almost. Tonight almost was good enough.  


	15. Into December

  
Author's notes:

**Pairings this part** : Remus/Tonks, Remus/Melanie

**Warnings this part** : mentions of partially clothed sex, rough sex, wall sex, possible past chan, biting

* * *

 

If time and Greyback’s trust had done little or nothing to help his place in the pack, having Melanie as his – whatever she was – seemed to do wonders for it. Marrok and Lucian still hated him with every bit of passion as before, but the others seemed to, if not warm up, so at least care less about him. Remus didn’t exactly understand why, but he didn’t complain either. It was relieving not to have to watch your step at all times. Having Greyback consider you high in rank was good – having the other members of the group not hoping you’d make mess things, was even better.  

Of course, there was also the perk of having someone to share his bed every so often – Someone to keep him company when the nights became too lonely or too cold. As it was early December and the house was only heated with a few poorly executed spells, the latter was not at all unimportant. Most important though, was to have someone who could help could help him forget, at least for a while, the one he really wanted to be there. Because as much as he almost wished it was, Melanie wasn’t the person he wanted to warm him during cold nights. 

 

He still had dreams about Sirius from time to time, even as they were fewer and more spaced apart. But most of all, he still thought of Tonks – the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her a toxin he just couldn’t get out of his system. A toxin that more than once, led him to her doorstep, hesitating, waiting – until he either left or fell for the temptation to peer through her window, both dreading and hoping to see her pleasure herself again. So far, the only thing he’d seen had been her cry, or curl up like a child and sleep. He wondered if she would cry as much, or hug her legs as tight if there was a man next to her on the bed – __if he was next to her on the bed__. He always pushed the thoughts out of his mind, firmly decided not to return again as he walked away, using his wand to remove his footprints from the snow that had started to fall during the last couple of weeks. His resolve never lasted long – and he always found his way back – always with the best intentions, always failing them, himself – her.  

 

He avoided actually seeing her, and the two occasions he had run into her during Order meetings had been disastrous. The first time he sat staring at her, looking away every time she looked at him, and ended up escaping the house like some teenager with a crush. The second time, he gathered his wits and sought her out in the kitchen – to talk, was the idea. Talk and explain his actions, tell her that it wasn’t her fault that they couldn’t be together, tell her to go on with her life, to find someone else. Instead he ended up snogging her with such fevered passion that he all but lost control and took her right then and there on the kitchen table. As it was, he managed to restrain himself just long enough to flee the kitchen and the house and return to the lair. He’d taken Melanie against a wall that night, clothes still on and with a force and hunger that he doubted very much Tonks would have found pleasurable. Melanie didn’t mind, although she had seemed rather surprised. It was still after all, the only time he’d ever sought __her__ out – instead of the other way around. 

 

It had taken some time before he grasped why Melanie chose to seek his bed, as he was still convinced that she didn’t trust him very much. He understood  the day he walked in on Marrok, holding her hair in a vicelike grip while he pounded inside her from behind so hard it couldn’t be anything but downright painful. As Remus forced him to stop and Melanie ran to stand behind him, he understood her reasons perfectly. She used him for protection as much as he used her for comfort, and somehow that knowledge made it easier to go on, as if it was less wrong if they both used each other. When Melanie came to his room again the following night, he hadn’t objected or told her that she didn’t have to be there, but simply let her in. 

 

She was sleeping in his bed at the moment, curled into the covers to keep warm, her long hair falling across her face. Remus was too restless to sleep. Standing by the boarded up window, peering out through the narrow gap with a butterbeer in his hand, he watched the sun rise. One more night over, another day started – one day closer to the next full moon. He sighed. Sometimes it seemed as though there was just one full moon after another, each worse than the one before. Especially Greyback was getting more and more agitated with every full moon – angry that their hunts didn’t pay off, that people stayed indoors giving them no opportunities to kill. He wanted blood, craved it even – and got edgy and angry when his need wasn’t satisfied. For Remus every warning he managed to get out to the Order was a success, and every full moon he wasn’t forced to kill a victory, but he still wondered how much more of this Greyback could take before he lost his temper completely. Maybe it was time to start thinking about putting a stop to this? If it was getting too dangerous maybe they would let him stop?

 

He cast a glance over at Melanie as she shifted, her breath indicating that she was about to wake up soon. There were things he still wanted to know, from Greyback, but also from her. Things he had avoided asking her about because he didn’t know how she’d react, or rather, because he had a feeling of how she might react. Maybe it was time he started asking anyway? It would help get a fuller picture of the lengths Greyback would go to in order to establish his pack – give the Order a better picture of what he was like. Maybe even get him out of here sooner? He needed out soon, because he didn’t know how much longer he could live like this. How much longer he could stay without becoming more like them.

 

Taking another sip at the butterbeer – a morning habit he started after he told Melanie he kept them in his cabinet – Remus sat down in the chair now permanently having its place next to the so called table. It had seemed safer to always keep real bottles of butterbeer in his cabinet next to the bottles of Wolfsbane potion, and he couldn’t deny that it was a flavour he’d always had been fond of, so the change was, he’d decided, for the best. 

 

He watched as Melanie shifted again, knowing it meant she would be up soon. He’d slept badly for months, and lately he’d watched her wake up several mornings a week so he knew her pattern by heart. She wrinkled her nose just before she woke up, and the first few minutes her face was still free from the bitterness and suspicion that was always there otherwise. Remus often found himself wondering if that would have been the way she looked if Greyback hadn’t taken her from her parents, or if being a werewolf was enough to change her so completely. 

 

“Good morning,” Remus said as she opened her eyes and blinked before she looked at him. 

 

“Up early again, or did I just sleep long?” she answered, yawning as she sat up with her legs pulled up under her. 

 

“Up early,” he replied, putting down the butterbeer on the table next to him. “Didn’t sleep too well,” he added with a shrug. 

 

“I know, you woke me up earlier,” she said stifling another yawn. “You called out a name in your sleep,” she added, making Remus’s throat go dry as he fought the urge to fidget in his seat.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry I woke you,” he said hoarsely, hoping the name he’d called wasn’t Tonks’s, thinking the less they knew about her the better. “What was the name?” he then asked, almost holding his breath. 

 

“Seriosuis, Sirius – something like that, I think,” she answered. 

 

Remus drew a breath of relief. “A friend,” he said quietly, lifting the bottle and finishing the last of the butterbeer. 

 

“A friend, or the lover that the Lestrange-woman mentioned?” Melanie asked, tilting her head as she studied him – to see if he lied when he answered no doubt. No, she definitely did not trust him yet. 

 

“I never called him my lover – it was just something we did, not something we ever talked about,” he answered, playing with the empty bottle in his hand. “But yes,” he added. 

 

“And he’s dead?”

 

“Bellatrix killed him,” Remus nodded, biting back the pain that threatened to come over him every time he thought of it. 

 

“Doesn’t that bother you? To work for the same side she is?”

 

She was baiting him, trying to make him slip up. Remus gave a terse laugh. “It would, but Greyback is not Bellatrix Lestrange – and he promised me I’ll get to kill her when the time comes,” he answered, wishing those words weren’t so tempting. If it hadn’t meant allowing Voldemort to win, to kill Harry and others… he was glad it did. It made it easier to withstand. 

 

“I see,” Melanie answered, bringing him back to reality, making him realise that if he ever was going to ask her anything personal, this would probably be the time for it. 

 

“Do you?” he asked provocatively. “Have you ever loved someone? Have anyone love you?” he asked, knowing her answer before she gave it. 

 

“Greyback loves me!” she said, her chin in the air. 

 

“Enough to give you away to others,” Remus responded coolly. “Yes I can sense the love,” he then snorted. 

 

“He does!” Melanie exclaimed, sitting straight up in her bed, her eyes flashing with anger. “He saved me, he took me in, taught me everything I know,” she insisted, her voice growing more insecure as she spoke. 

 

Unable to fight the pang of guilt, Remus sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course you’re right.”

 

She settled back down a bit, pulling the covers up almost to her chin – to protect herself from the cold or from him, Remus wasn’t sure. For a moment he wondered if he should just drop the subject, but then he couldn’t. He needed the information. He needed all information he could get that helped explain Greyback’s personality. In the end, this type of information could very well be used to predict his future movements, maybe even prevent other children from being separated from their parents. Pushing the regrets to the side, Remus ventured on.

 

“How old were you when Greyback saved you?” he asked, choosing his words carefully as to not upset her so much so that she’d leave the room and not answer. 

 

“I was twelve, almost thirteen,” she answered, pride in her voice as she spoke. 

 

Remus shuddered, once more wondering how young she’d been when Greyback taught her to please others. That type of information wasn’t needed though, so he left it in his mind and moved on instead. “You couldn’t have been a werewolf for long then,” he said casually, hoping she’d answer even though he hadn’t asked a question. He didn’t want her to think he was interrogating her, even though that was exactly what he did. 

 

“Over two years,” Melanie said, straightening her back a bit more. “I was turned when I was ten and a half,” she said. 

 

“So you’re parents, they treated you badly?” he asked, wondering if he should say something about his own. He opted not to, but waited instead for her answer. 

 

“They locked me up every full moon, if that what you mean,” she said tersely. “Where do you think I got most of my scars? I’m guessing yours did too,” she added giving him a pointed look. 

 

Remus nodded briefly. “They did at Hogwarts too,” he added. “A demand to take me,” he explained. 

 

“I’m surprised they offered at all – no one wanted me,” she replied bitterly. 

 

“But you’re younger than me,” Remus retorted spontaneously. He knew she hadn’t gone, but he always assumed it had more to do with Greyback than Hogwarts. 

 

“What has that to do with anything?” Melanie snapped. “Oh I got the letter alright, the same day my sister did. For half an hour I actually thought I would be allowed to go. Then my mum told me it was a mistake, that Hogwarts wouldn’t take someone like me,” she said bitterly. 

 

Forced to swallow his reply, Remus simply nodded. He could understand Melanie’s parents, but he was certain they were wrong. There was no need to add suffering to injury as he could only imagine the pain, so he kept his believes to himself and changed the subject. 

 

A good thing Greyback got you away from that then,” he said, having the feeling that she would never admit to anything else. As he suspected, Melanie relaxed at once. 

 

“He taught me everything – how to be a werewolf, what I can be – everything. And then he brought me to my parents one full moon and let me punish them for the wrong they did me. For trying to teach me that what I am is something wrong. I owe him everything,” she said with such pride that Remus couldn’t help but to shudder. He’d seen the wolf she became – and it was not one he’d like to meet if he wasn’t a one himself. 

 

“You look cold,” she said watching him. “Why don’t you come back to bed,” she continued while holding the covers up for him.

 

Nodding slightly, Remus got up from the chair. There was no reason he could think of not to. He wondered when she’d become so comfortable with herself, with her scars. Even from across the room, in the dim light of morning, he could see them crisscrossing her olive skin, almost shining white. He had never been comfortable like that – would never be. He didn’t mind her scars though, only his. And the fact he could still see marks from his teeth on her thigh where he bit her the night before only aroused him. There was still things he wanted to know, but now wasn’t the time. There would be other times to ask, to find out. One step at the time, he would piece the puzzle together. One piece at the time. 


	16. Mine!

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks

**Warnings this part** : partially clothed sex, rough sex

* * *

The snow crunched under his footsteps as he walked closer, reminding him that he shouldn’t be there – that he should turn around and leave while there was still time. He didn’t, of course, just as he hadn’t any of the other times he was there. Instead he continued to close in on the house, watching the door, imagining himself ringing the doorbell this time. He didn’t do that either, but stopped, as usual a fair bit away from it, hesitating. 

 

There was a howl as the wind increased in intensity, and Remus pulled his ragged old coat tighter around himself – but he didn’t move. Even when moving would be the wise thing to do, when standing still made his teeth rattle with cold, he didn’t move. He swallowed hard, trying to will himself to either leave or walk up to the door. Maybe it was the conflict between his options that kept him standing in the darkening garden, staring at a closed door. Whether it was or wasn’t didn’t really matter, though. It was still what he was doing.  

 

He jerked his head when she turned on the light in her bedroom, her silhouette clear in the window as she moved about in the room. He didn’t need to look to see what she was doing. He’d seen her do this enough times already. She’d take a shower before either slipping into her comfy grey pyjamas or crawling down beneath her covers naked, trusting the covers to warm her enough. The thought alone made him groan softly as he felt his cock stir and harden. He closed his eyes. 

 

__He shouldn’t be doing this!__   

 

A clatter from inside told him she’d knocked something over. The vase on the table by the window probably – she’d knocked that over more times then he could remember, each time forcing him to hide while she cleaned up. Today, however, he wasn’t that close to the window, and she had the lights on – she shouldn’t be able to see him. 

 

Not that he should be there at all. He really shouldn’t. Last time he saw her… No he couldn’t think about that. The mere thought of having her pressed up against the kitchen table while feeling her lips against his own was too much to handle. That wasn’t what he was here for. Or at least not what he was supposed to be here for. 

 

With a sigh, Remus closed his eyes. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ring the doorbell and tell her he was sorry, that she should move on to someone else. Maybe next time he would have more control of his urges. Today was too close to the full moon. 

 

The snow crunched under his feet again when he turned to walk away. One foot ahead of the other, and when he reached the fence he would turn around and cast the spell to cover up his tracks. Just like he always did. 

 

“Remus, is that you?” 

 

Her voice caught him in mid track, and for a moment he didn’t know what to do. Turn back around obviously, since there really wasn’t much to choose from – but then what?

 

“Hello,” he said turning around, not knowing what else to say, but not being able to stop his eyes from moving over her. 

 

She was indeed dressed in her grey pyjamas, her feet and arms bare, nothing to shield her from the cold. It took a mere second for him to notice what the cold did to her nipples, and another second for his body to react. Suddenly, he was glad he had the coat wrapped tightly around him.

 

“What are you doing here?” Tonks asked, taking a step out into the snow while wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm, apparently not bothering with protecting her feet. “Why are you standing out here in the cold instead of ringing the doorbell?” 

 

“I…” Remus cleared his throat. __What answer could he possibly give to that_?_

 

“It’s freezing out here, Remus!” Tonks said, saving him from the answer he couldn’t give. “Come on inside – I’ll make you some tea and you can tell me then,” she added, the way she bit her lip the only sign of her possibly being nervous. 

 

He should say no. He knew himself too well – it was too close to the full moon. The tug of his urges was too strong. There were a million reasons why he should say no. 

 

__Dammit, just tell her no!__  

 

“Why not!” 

 

He sighed as he watched her smile and hurry inside, eager to get out of the cold no doubt. Another deep breath and he followed her inside. 

 

Tonks’s kitchen was probably one of the messiest ones that Remus had ever been in. She didn’t have any doors on the cupboards, the glasses and plates standing haphazardly on top of each other, no particular order to anything and more than likely several spells to keep it all in place. She had no clean cups or mugs, as they were all in the sink, but she washed two while they waited for the kettle to come to the boil. 

 

The silence in the room was thick as Remus sat down at the table – forced to remove several piles of paper just to find a clear spot of table. Several times, he started to say something – every time he stopped himself, knowing that whatever came out would sound stupid and wrong. Truth was, there wasn’t really anything he could say – because what could you say to someone you’d snogged twice, only to run out of the room with no real explanation afterwards? If he’d ever had a chance at sorting out his behaviour the first time, he must have ruined every chance the second. 

 

“So…” Tonks started, trailing off as soon as she’d sat down the mug of steaming hot tea on the table in front of him. 

 

Remus watched her sit down opposite him, twirling her own mug in her hands. “So…” he echoed her, not knowing what should come next. 

 

“Everything is alright at Greyback’s?” she asked, thankfully avoiding what must be on her mind. _What are you doing here? Why did you come? Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?_ “I mean, you’re not in danger or anything…more than usual,” she added, staring down at the tea in her mug. 

 

“No, no, I’m not,” Remus answered. _I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you. I need to convince you I don’t._

 

“Any new information?” she asked, only chancing a glance at him every now and then. _You can’t keep doing this to me!_

 

“Some,” he said simply. __I know_._

“Will I need to drag it from you?” she asked with a slight laugh – a forced laugh – when he went silent again. _Then don’t!_

“He kidnaps children, werewolf children – or at least he did once. I’m trying to figure out if he has done so more times than that,” Remus answered almost mechanically _. I can’t be with you. I’m wrong for you!_

"That’s horrible!” she answered, for the first time tonight actually meeting his gaze properly. _Don’t you love me?_

Remus turned his attention to the tea. “Yes,” he said quietly _. Yes._

He rose too quickly, spilling his tea as knowledge dawned on him. He was suddenly in desperate need of air. He couldn’t stay here any longer _. How had he ever thought he could?_ With a sloppy spell on the piles of paper, he tried to clean up before he finally gave up and turned to leave – fleeing the kitchen.

Her hand on his arm stopped him as she caught up with him in the small hallway, and the next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against the wall, holding her in a tight grip while he devoured her mouth. _Yes! Oh Merlin forgive me, yes!_

She meowed when he ground himself hard against her, tangling her fingers in his hair. Somewhere in the distance, Remus could hear the sound of ripping fabric, but he didn’t care what it was or where it came from. What he cared about was Tonks, the way she tasted, the way her body was pressed up against his, the way her nipples were rock hard in his hand when he cupped her breast, the way she sounded when he bit her lip just so. 

He groaned. 

 

Moving them was easy – having watched the house on so many nights, he knew where her bedroom was. He heard the vase by the window breaking as the door flew open and knocked it over. He didn’t care. The vase wasn’t important – making Tonks his was _._

_“Mine!”_ he growled as he backed her to her bed and let her fall onto the mattress, pulling off his jumper as he joined her – pinning her down with his body while claiming her mouth and body with his lips and hands. 

 

She gasped when he pinched her nipple and arched her back as he did it again. By the time he bent down and took her nipple in his mouth and his name spilled from her lips he was lost, her voice and scent more than the wolf lurking within him could resist. 

 

He growled when he ripped off her pyjama bottoms, groaned as she reached out and helped him with his own trousers. There was no waiting, no consideration – with his trousers still on, just pushed down his hips – Remus pulled her close, plunging his cock inside her – relishing in her gasps as he sheathed himself inside her cunt completely. 

 

The scent of arousal was heavy in the air and the wolf within him remembered her taste – remember the sweetness of her blood. Remus sped up – thrusting with a fervour he couldn’t control, holding on to her hips as she rocked against him. She cried out and wrapped her slender legs around him, her nails digging into his shoulders. The scratches couldn’t be deep, but the scent of blood reached his nostrils all the same. 

 

He thrust harder, biting the nape of her neck – not breaking the skin, but undoubtedly leaving a mark. 

 

_“Mine,”_ he growled again _._

_"Yours,”_ she moaned in response _._

It was too fast, too intense, not at all what it should be – but then her cunt convulsed around him and she cried out while throwing her head back. It was too much, too soon – and he came without control, his seed spilling deep inside her. 

He moved almost immediately, knowing he’d be too heavy. With closed eyes he tried to push away what he had just done. There had been no love making – only him taking what he wanted _. He shouldn’t have come here._

She yawned as she curled up next to him, pulling at the covers and wrapping them both in them as best she could. Remus stayed still, staring at the ceiling while he listened to her breaths becoming deeper, her head becoming heavier on his chest – the signs of sleep. He couldn’t look down on her, couldn’t face what he had taken without asking. 

The feeling of guilt too hard to handle, Remus moved. He moved slowly – so he wouldn’t wake her up. Looking at her, he could see the marks of his bite, the marks of his fingers on her hips. Disgusted by himself he turned away, only to be faced with the ripped fabric of her pyjama trousers, the broken vase.  

 

Biting back the guilt, he reached for his jumper and pulled it on, then looked through her dressing table for something to write on, to say he was sorry, that this wouldn’t happen again. When he finally found a piece of paper, however, he could only stare at it - his mind blank. 

 

He left when he heard her move, not looking back, not writing anything – just left. Stepping over what was left of the top of her pyjama in the hallway; Remus grabbed his coat from the floor, wrapping it around him as he stepped out into the cold night. He shouldn’t have done this – he shouldn’t have come. He had. But at least he wouldn’t again. Not ever again. 


	17. Another Full Moon

  
Author's notes: **Pairings this part** : Moony/Melanie, Greyback/OMC (Lucian)

**Warningst this part** : bestiality, biting, public sex, rough sex, non-con 

* * *

The boy and his father were making snowmen in the garden. They were laughing and the boy squealed with delight as his father lifted him high in the air to help him reach the top of the snowman. Neither seemed to care that the sun was about to set, that night would prevail, bringing in its wake a full moon. They had ignored the woman’s worries when she told them to come indoors. Why should they be afraid? It wasn’t even late, the sun setting early in the middle of winter, and they were in _their_ garden, in a small unimportant village on the edge of the forest. No one would care to attack _them_! No one, but a pack of hungry werewolves, a pack that had been denied human flesh for months. But then neither the boy nor his father knew that such a pack was watching them play, hidden in the shadows of the forest. 

 

Remus was growing more desperate with every minute that passed. For the first time since he joined the pack as a spy, he had failed to give word to the Order. Greyback had become more careful lately and this full moon no one had known where they were going to go, the destination a complete surprise to everyone. 

 

For Remus, listening to the boy and father play was torture. He’d stopped watching them an hour ago, too nauseous to even think. He needed a way to warn them, to make them go inside – yet there wasn’t any way he could think of that wouldn’t cost him his life. His jaws clenched together, he tried to think harder, not ready to die yet, but knowing he would give his life if needed. He couldn’t stand idly by and watch the boy and his father be killed, or worse watch Greyback do to another boy what he had done to him once.  

 

Her steps were light and barely audible as she came up behind him – a predator’s steps. Still to him, they weren’t even hard to hear. Every sense in his body was sharpened, ready for the change that would come. He knew the same was true for Melanie and the others as well. They were growing impatient, the imminent change not arriving fast enough for them. An hour longer – at most – hardly enough time to work something out. Especially not with Melanie as his constant company. 

 

She had been staying close to him all day, ever since they left the house – if for protection from the others when their instincts started taking over, or to keep an eye on him, was impossible to say. Not that it mattered. The end result was the same either way. If he wasn’t left alone, he couldn’t send a warning. He needed another way. 

 

He gave her a faint smile as he turned around, pulling his wand and charming the snow so that he could sit down on it without freezing. He didn’t notice Melanie’s raised eyebrow until he’d already sat down. With a quick flick of his wrist he charmed the ground next to him as well, patting it for her to come and join him. She hesitated, but eventually did as he suggested. 

 

“How did you do that?” she wondered after they’d sat in silence for a while, the sound of the boy and his father piercing through the sounds of the forest. The shrieking sound the branches made when the wind blew through them, the sound of the snow crunching under the feet of the members of the pack barely audible at all. 

 

“Do what?” Remus asked, confused for a while. 

 

“Make the ground dry and warm?” she replied. 

 

“Just a simple spell,” Remus answered a bit surprised before remembering that Melanie wouldn’t know how to do even rudimentary spells. Greyback didn’t like magic, and only used it when he had to. He would probably never have let someone like Melanie learn much about it at all, save for a few household spells. For a moment Remus wondered if he’d ever even seen her with a wand. 

 

“I’ll teach you sometime,” he added, not knowing if he would ever get the chance. 

 

The thought hit him as soon as he’d spoken the words – Melanie wouldn’t know any complicated spells either, she wouldn’t understand them. A quick glance in the direction of the rest of the pack told him what he needed to know, they wouldn’t see them from where they were. 

He snapped back to attention when he heard Melanie speak. 

 

“You’d teach me?” she asked. “You’d think I could learn?”

 

“Of course, Melanie – it’s not complicated,” he replied. “If you wish, I could show you something that is,” he added, hoping she’d say yes.

 

“Really?” she replied, her eyes shining with the same excitement Remus had seen in his students when showing them something truly impressive. 

 

“Of course,” he said with a smile. “Just don’t tell the others – this is just for you, alright?” he added, careful not to mention Greyback’s name. If he did, she’d be sure to tell him. 

 

As he suspected, she looked uncertain about his request – but then her curiosity took over and she nodded her head. Remus drew a breath of relief, picked up his wand and tried to think of something that made him happy. He quickly pushed away the thought of Tonks writhing beneath him, and settled for the memory of the first time Sirius transformed with him, a couple of months before James and Peter could. Even now, he could feel the warm feeling of not being alone anymore.

 

_“Expecto Patronum,”_ he said, watching the silvery smoke emerge from his wand, slowly shifting into the shape he knew so well.

 

Melanie gasped and reached out her hand, as if trying to touch the silvery creature before her. “It’s beautiful!” she almost whispered. 

 

“It’s Sirius,” Remus said, watching the bear-like dog prance around in front of them just like Sirius undoubtedly would have done – always the show off. He smiled. He had denied his Patronus to take on this form for too many years, an indistinct shape replacing it instead. He was glad he didn’t have to deny himself anymore. 

 

“Wasn’t Sirius your lover?” Melanie asked confused, still whispering, still in awe of the silvery creature in front of her. 

 

“Yes, but he was also an–” he stopped himself before he finished the sentence. Melanie would probably not know what an Animagus was. “He could change himself into a dog – he did to keep me company when Hogwarts locked me up,” he said instead, nodding at the dog who immediately turned and ran – to Dumbledore, to whomever was closest. He hoped it would be fast enough. 

 

“A wizard did that for you? Didn’t he hate you for being a werewolf?” she asked surprised, her eyes still focused on the tail of the Patronus. 

 

“Sirius was special, very special,” he said, following her gaze until the forest was once more dark and seemingly empty. 

 

“Oh,” Melanie said, turning her attention back to Remus. “Where is that going, by the way?” she then asked. 

 

Remus shrugged. “I don’t know. It will probably run around until it vanishes,” he lied, amazed at how easily lying came to him these days. 

 

They didn’t speak much more after that, just sat and waited for the sun to finally set, for the moon to rise. They didn’t have to wait long and in Remus’s mind far too short a time had passed when the moon started to rise above the horizon. They immediately felt it tug at them, urging their bodies to change. Melanie got up first, disrobing quickly and placing her clothes on the spelled ground next to Remus. She was smiling, excited and happy – sniffing the air and turning her head to the sounds of the father and son, still outside – admiring the orange colour the moon had as it rose. 

 

“Finally,” she said as Remus got up and took off his own robes, shivering only slightly in the cold – his body already reacting to the moon. “We’ll feast tonight – just remember to leave the boy to Greyback,” she said, smiling, her face eerily beautiful as excitement replaced her normal bitterness. 

Remus shuddered, but nodded all the same, following her to where the others were waiting for the moon to rise higher on the sky so the transformation could start. Everywhere he looked, Remus could see the same excitement, the same hunger in them. He glanced at the father and son in their garden. _Dammit!_ the warning was taking far too long, he needed to think of something else – and fast.

He felt the pain just seconds after the thought had entered his mind. His face was lengthening, his bones moving, his skin sprouting fur. He fell to all four, paws and not hands hitting the ground. Around him the others were transforming as well. Lucian to the right of him, his wolf brown and handsome – Melanie in front of him, her wolf black and magnificent. Magnificent and tempting. Sniffing the air, Remus could smell her arousal, her readiness to mate. He grew hard, and for a shadow of a moment, he lost sight of what he needed to concentrate on. Then he heard the young boy’s mother call out from the door. 

 

She sounded scared, and called to both her husband and her son to come in at once. Her face terrified, Remus knew – the warning had reached her. Now all he could wish was that it was fast enough. 

 

The others were getting ready to attack, forming up behind Greyback, waiting for his cue. They all wanted the prime spot – as close to Greyback as possible – and pushed and shoved each other out of the way, baring their teeth in silent threats. And still no one made a sound – and the boy and his father were still outside, reluctant to go in just yet. 

 

Horrified, Remus watched the mother go outside, ready to grab her son and force him indoors. That’s when he realised she would fail. She wouldn’t reached them soon enough. Greyback was ready to attack, and the boy and his father wouldn’t know he was coming until there was no chance of them getting inside. Panic filling him, Remus looked around him, his eyes falling on Lucian, baring his teeth at a young female to make her move. He was hot headed, would be easy to bait. 

 

With a forceful shove and a bite, Remus pierced Lucian’s fur and made him yelp loudly – loudly enough for the family to hear. Greyback swirled around, glaring at him, but Lucian was already growling loudly at Remus temporarily forgetting his orders. Remus ignored him, watching the family instead. It had been enough. The father had picked up his son and they were running, heading for the still open door. 

 

Greyback barked in annoyance and set after them, closing in with every step. Remus darted after him, ready to attack if the father and boy couldn’t run fast enough. He could hear the others behind him, barking as they followed. The boy was crying, screaming loudly in his father’s arms – and then they were inside, slamming the door literally in Greyback’s face. 

 

With a howl of frustration and anger, Greyback lunged at the door, clawing at it with furiousness, until his eyes fell on a cat trying to run off. Before the cat stood a chance, he had snapped it across the neck, killing it in his anger at not receiving his price. Shaking the lifeless cat furiously, he tossed it to the rest of the pack who tore the poor creature completely to pieces. Greyback, however, didn’t care about the cat anymore. His eyes were set on Lucian, a madness in them that Remus had never seen before. 

 

Lucian saw it too, his whimpers pathetic as he nearly flattened himself on the ground, his tail between his legs as Greyback approached him with bared teeth and fur on end. A pang of guilt shot through Remus at the sight. He was responsible for whatever punishment Greyback would give Lucien. Then again, had he barked and alerted them, Greyback would have known – and he wouldn’t be alive much longer. 

 

Lucian yelped helplessly as Greyback bit down hard on his neck, punishing him with the pain of his teeth before he forced Lucian around and pushed inside him. The scent of Lucian’s blood filled the air, stilled the others – the pack was all watching, some drawing closer, waiting to take Greyback’s place, others grabbing one of the females and following suit. Remus felt sickened, but couldn’t leave, couldn’t let his guard down just yet. A wise decision, since he from the corner of his eye could see Marrok approaching Melanie. She yelped when Remus grabbed her by the neck, pulling her away from Marrok. Mostly by surprise, because she was more than ready – the scent of her arousal even more tangible than before. Licking his muzzle, she shared the blood from the cat. It was a very poor replacement, indeed. 

 

Marrok growled from where he was standing, but didn’t move in. He waited his turn with Lucian, pushing the others that waited away, making sure to be second to Greyback in the rape. Lucian was whimpering badly, no doubt in a lot of pain. And still it was only early in the night. 

 

Remus shifted his attention when Melanie buffed him in the neck, her body eager and ready for him. Gripping the skin of her neck, Remus positioned himself and thrust inside her, letting the whimpers of pleasure drown the whimpers of pain. He couldn’t help Lucian just now, and it had been the only way. He had saved a young boy from Greyback, and a father from the rest of the pack. That was all that mattered. That and the way Melanie felt when she moved beneath him, welcoming his dominance. That mattered – anything else was just the price that had to be paid.  


	18. Christmas

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks (sort of), Remus/Melanie (the smut)

**Important** : Some of the dialogue of the Christmas lunch conversation in this part is taken from HBP, pages 318-319 (UK edition). Those sentences are marked with a *.

* * *

Christmas at the Burrow came too soon after the full moon as far as Remus was concerned. He felt stiff and his body ached when he moved too quickly. Still, it was, as always, a relief to escape Greyback’s eyes, and to wake up in a place where he didn’t need to constantly lie and watch his step. 

 

Last night’s Christmas Eve gathering had been a bit awkward,even if his seat by the fire had done wonders for his joints. Molly had been on edge the whole evening, and sometimes he wondered if Fleur hadn’t purposely set out to find ways to annoy her future mother-in-law. If she had, she was certainly doing a very good job of it.

 

He was worried about Harry. He seemed…almost obsessed. With Draco Malfoy, with Snape, with this Half Blood Prince he was on about. It worried him, even if he could understand the boy. These were troubling times, and of course it was not good that Draco was up to something, and it was even worse that Snape couldn’t work out what that something was. But, he was only a teenager, so surely Dumbledore or Snape could handle the situation. Harry really shouldn’t worry as much as he did, and he should really put more faith in Dumbledore’s judgement. 

 

Remus stretched as he rolled out of bed, smiling when he looked at the parcels at the end of it. There weren’t many presents, but far more than he was used to, and Molly had even gone to the trouble of knitting him a sweater. He pulled it on, pleased to own at least one item of clothing that wasn’t torn. He frowned when he looked at himself in a mirror, the mirror image of him frowning back. 

 

“You look horrible!” the mirror exclaimed. “Put on some weight, will you!” 

 

Remus sighed. If only it was that easy. Well at least he would get a proper dinner today, one that wasn’t dependant on someone being a good thief. 

 

Christmas lunch was wonderful, as all of Molly’s cooking, and thinking about it Remus hadn’t felt so comfortable in quite sometime. Unfortunately the feeling of being at ease only lasted until Ron knocked the gravy over and Fleur mentioned Tonks. The moment she had, Remus knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the rest of the meal. 

 

With horror, he listened to Molly say that she’d invited Tonks, that she had turned her down – and then there it was the question he’d been dreading:

 

“Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?”*

 

What in the world could he possibly answer to that? _Yes, Molly. I spoke to her less than a fortnight ago, then I all but raped her and left her while she was sleeping without so much as an apology for my actions._ Somehow he doubted Molly would approve.   

“No, I haven’t been in contact with anybody very much,”* he lied, trying to push away the nagging guilt that was presently threatening to give him an ulcer. “But Tonks got her own family to go to, hasn’t she?”* he added quickly, trying to push away his guilt, hoping it would put a halt to the conversation. 

It didn’t. 

 

If anything the situation deteriorated. Molly was positively glaring at him while telling him – not the others, he was sure – that Tonks would spend her Christmas alone. He didn’t need her to tell him flat out that the situation was utterly his fault – he already knew it, and even if he hadn’t, only a fool would misinterpret what her eyes were saying,  which gave him another reason to worry as Harry seemed to pick up on the message Molly was sending. Fortunately, Harry proceeded to watch Fleur and Bill, so maybe he wasn’t old enough to understand glares like that, after all. 

 

He did, however, manage to make matters even worse by bringing up the matter of Tonks’s new Patronus, something Remus hadn’t known anything about at all. An involuntary shudder had run through Remus when he heard of its shape. He was utterly relieved when Percy’s sudden arrival broke off the conversation, even if his obvious discomfort and lack of will for interacting with his family was heartbreaking all on its own. Even worse was Scrimgeour’s pretended interest in the garden. Fact was, that had Scrimgeour and Percy spelled out the reason behind their visit in bold letters on the wall, it could not have been any clearer than it was now. Harry seemed to handle the situation just fine, however, even if he was rather livid when he returned back in.

 

Assured that Harry was fine, and not really feeling as if he should intrude on the feelings stirred up by Percy’s visit, Remus excused himself and left rather quickly after Harry had returned inside. Not that he had the faintest idea of where to go once he had left. He thought of going back to Greyback’s lair, but the thought of spending Christmas there was just too depressing for him to face. 

 

He should have known where he’d end up. But even when completely honest with himself, he actually hadn’t. Or maybe he was just getting so good at lying that he could even convince himself of the lies. 

 

Either way, it was in Tonks’s garden he ended up, watching the house, as if that action alone would give him some clarity. It didn’t of course, but he didn’t know what else to do, not willing to face her after what he had done, but not wanting to leave things as they were either. 

 

He startled and moved when he heard the sound of the door, hiding in the shadows of a nearby tree. Feeling utterly like a fool and a coward, he watched the door open, watched Tonks come outside – only she wasn’t alone, Kingsley was with her. 

 

She looked, if possible, even paler than she had when he’d seen her last. Kingsley looked worried, although his intentions were not particularly well hidden. He also looked disappointed, so Remus assumed Tonks was still turning him down. His heart did a somersault at the thought, but his mind reminded him with brisk honesty that Kingsley would be far better for her than he was. She deserved someone like him, someone who could give her what she wanted and deserved. 

 

The surge of jealousy that filled him at the thought was not completely unexpected, but stronger than he thought it would be this closely after the full moon. He tried pushing the feelings away, but images of them together – making love – were as persistent as they had ever been, proving hard to get out of the mind once they lodged themselves there. 

  
The sound of Apparition alerted him to the fact that Kingsley had left, and for a while, Tonks stood alone, watching the spot from where he’d probably Disapparated. Then she turned and headed inside, closing the door behind her. 

 

Remus stepped out from his hiding place, watching the house for a while before he too Disapparated. It was no use anyway. He couldn’t allow himself to hurt her again, and the only way he could think of to avoid it was to stay away. He’d see her when he had to – on Order meetings – but he wouldn’t see her out of that. She’d move on, maybe with Kingsley, maybe with someone else, but she would move on. Finding a husband, having kids – living a happy ever after he could never provide her with. He would live here, with Greyback’s pack as long as he could keep himself undercover, as long as it was needed. He tried not to think further ahead than that, and when he opened the door to his room only to find Melanie waiting for him it was easier to forget. 

 

In her he could find the means to forget, to not think, reducing himself to touch and smell and taste as he laid down on his back and allowed her to set the pace for once. He bit his lip to keep from crying out the wrong name when he came, his cock buried deep within Melanie as she rode him. He licked her clean afterwards, making her cry out in as she came, nearly riding his face as she did. When they fell asleep, tangled together, Remus wished his last thought before sleep hadn’t been of Tonks. 


	19. Dominance

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part** : Remus/Melanie/Greyback

**Warnings this part:** non-con, rough sex, threesome, voyeurism 

* * *

Already by mid December, Remus had thought Greyback’s mood couldn’t possibly become any worse. Now by early January, he knew he had been wrong. 

 

It wasn’t just the lack of successful full moon hunts, because as repulsive as the thought was, Remus knew Greyback made sure to hunt even when the moon wasn’t full. His methods were different, of course – he never brought the pack and he couldn’t transform anyone – but he was killing all the same, spreading terror and fear in his wake. 

 

No, his snappish, impatient behaviour was based on something else – something that had to do with all the trips away from the lair he’d taken lately. They couldn’t all be hunting trips, and surely he would have been in a better mood if they had been? 

 

It was Melanie who finally explained where he was, or provided her theory at least, as Greyback didn’t tell anyone about his actual whereabouts. It sounded likely though, if rather frightening, that the reason Greyback left was because Voldemort called him. 

 

“Greyback is always in a bad mood when he has seen __him__ , he hates to follow orders, especially from some wizard,” Melanie had explained one morning. “It’s beneath him, but he does it because he loves us,” she said with adoration in her voice. 

 

Remus said nothing, but agreed that the theory undoubtedly made sense. He tried to get confirmation from other sources, including Greyback himself – but that landed him nowhere but on his hands and knees. He still reported it to the Order, the possibility of Greyback increasing his visits to Voldemort too serious not to report. 

 

It was after a particularly long stay away from the lair that Greyback called Remus and Melanie to him. Even Melanie seemed worried before they went, and seeing how the last woman that had been called to him, had been in such a state that she couldn’t get out of bed for a whole week, Remus couldn’t help but understand her. He hoped, perhaps futilely, that nothing like that would happen this time, while still wishing he could use Melanie’s fear to his advantage. He doubted though, that anything would ever stop Melanie from blindly following Greyback’s wishes. 

 

Greyback was seated in a large chair in the middle of an otherwise empty room when they entered. He watched them intently as they closed the door behind them, clicking his long claw-like nails together rhythmically. Melanie immediately fell to her knees, her head bent down in submission. Briefly, Remus wondered if he should do the same, but then he never had before. It had never occurred to him. 

 

“Melanie, it seems you’re making Remus insecure by kneeling,” Greyback said, sniffing the air before he spoke. Remus shuddered, as always highly uncomfortable with Greyback’s keen sense of smell. “Doesn’t she kneel for you?” Greyback asked Remus. 

 

Remus thought back to his and Melanie’s first time, she’d kneeled then, like she did now. Mostly, however, she only kneeled when he asked her to, and then for other reasons than waiting for him to speak to her. 

 

“I usually don’t require her to,” Remus answered honestly. 

 

Greyback bit back a barking laugh. “You’re too soft then, Remus. A bitch should know her place, especially before males in her pack,” he said letting his eyes wander between the two of them. “It seems you still have a lot to learn,” he continued, once more reminding Remus of how utterly in love he was with the sound of his own voice. “How fortunate I’m such a good teacher – especially since Melanie seems to need to be reminded of her place as well.”

 

Melanie didn’t respond to his words, a slight twitch the only sign that she’d heard what Greyback had said. Remus stayed quiet too, following her lead. She’d had more experience in handling Greyback than him; surely she knew what to do. 

 

The silence that spread in the room was thick and uncomfortable only broken by the constant clicking of Greyback’s nails. With a feral grin on his face, Greyback watched them both, looking very pleased with himself. When he finally leaned back and started talking, Remus was mostly grateful. 

 

“Melanie, disrobe,” he said simply, watching as she immediately obeyed, not speaking again until she was completely naked. “Now show Remus what a good little bitch you can be,” he commanded. 

 

Melanie moved instantly, reaching Remus in only a few crawling strides and immediately starting to remove his shoes and trousers. Remus let her, knowing that Greyback wouldn’t accept any less from him. Still, he wished he didn’t have to. Not that he minded being dominant towards Melanie, or her being submissive towards him – that was _hardly_ the problem given his preferences. But he did hate to be told how to dominate her. Especially by Greyback. 

 

Forced to suppress a shiver, Remus tried to pretend Greyback wasn’t there. He focused his attention on Melanie, who’d just got rid of his clothes and was patiently waiting for Greyback’s next instruction.

 

“Take him in your mouth,” Greyback ordered, and Melanie immediately obeyed, making Remus gasp as her warm mouth enveloped his cock. 

 

He wasn’t particularly hard, the situation not one he found erotic at all – but Melanie was skilful, and it was easier than Remus would have thought to close his eyes and escape the room. He grew hard in only a few swipes of her tongue, and groaned as he wrapped his hand in her hair to guide her pace. 

 

“That’s a good pup,” Greyback’s voice drawled. “Now steer her more forcefully – fuck her mouth, make her take you deep. Don’t worry about her gagging. She’s used to being handled hard – I taught her myself,” he continued, making Remus shudder as he did as he was told. 

 

He wished Greyback would shut up, just leave them to it. That way he could focus on what Melanie was doing, letting the feelings overwhelm him and have it quickly over with. The sound of Greyback’s voice disturbed him, reminded him of the situation and prevented him from relaxing. But Greyback didn’t seem to have any inclination to stop. In fact he seemed to utterly enjoy the spectacle, and continued giving orders like before. 

 

“Don’t forget his balls, Melanie, they need attention too,” he said, his orders promptly followed. “Run your tongue along his shaft, just like that – that’s a good girl. Now take him fully in your mouth, deep in your throat like I taught you.” 

 

Remus groaned, with frustration as much as pleasure, as Greyback’s voice constantly brought him back to reality, away from the edge and the climax he assumed would end the performance. When Greyback told Melanie to stop completely, Remus couldn’t help but to growl in protest. 

 

“There, now, pup – don’t forget yourself,” Greyback said firmly, glaring at him for a moment before he turned his attention to Melanie. “Get over here!” he ordered. 

 

Remus watched as Melanie crawled on her hands and knees to Greyback, her head lifted high so that she could meet his gaze. She looked every bit the predator, closing in on her prey – only Greyback wasn’t her prey, he was her master, and she accepted him as such. When she reached him, she leaned down and removed his shoes, licking and kissing his feet. 

 

“Higher!” Greyback grunted, and Melanie quickly proceeded to undo his tightly fitting robes and reveal his large cock. “I want that in your throat, woman – no gagging!” he ordered. 

 

Melanie nodded, gave it a few licks and took it in her mouth, pressing down until she’d taken him all the way in. Greyback let out a deep groan of satisfaction and pressed his hand on her head, preventing her from moving without permission. 

 

“Remus, don’t just stand there!” he growled. “Fuck her, show her who is in control!”

 

Remus, who had been reluctantly watching the scene between Greyback and Melanie, moved as soon as Greyback spoke. He was still hard from being inside her mouth, so he had no problems obeying. Kneeling behind her, Remus positioned himself and thrust slowly inside her, feeling the heat of her cunt surround him. 

 

“Harder, pup!” Greyback urged him, and instinctively Remus sped up his pace, pushing deeper inside Melanie each time, his fingers holding her hips in a steady grip. 

 

The sensations growing in intensity, Remus closed his eyes again, once more pretending that Greyback wasn’t in the room. The illusion didn’t last very long though, as Greyback’s grunts and groans at Melanies attention to his cock became ever louder. 

 

“Fuck her harder!” he commanded again, his voice hoarse but firm as he fisted his hand in Melanie’s hair while ruthlessly fucking her mouth. 

 

Remus complied, probably fucking Melanie harder than he had ever done before, but she kept pushing back against him as though she didn’t seem to mind the roughness of it at all. When she clenched her muscles Remus couldn’t help but to groan out loud and would almost have come right then and there if Greyback hadn’t barked another order. 

 

“Her arse,” he growled. “Fuck her arse!”

 

Suppressing his frustration, Remus clenched his jaws as he pulled out and got his wand so that he could cast a lubrication spell. He didn’t mind taking anyone up the arse – obviously – but didn’t usually bother with women, seeing how they didn’t have a prostate and therefore missed half the fun of it. Still, it was hardly his first time of doing this, so he knew the importance of preparation – he only hoped Greyback would allow him to take his time. 

 

Remarkably he did, and Melanie groaned around Greyback’s cock as Remus inserted a finger, and pushed back when he tried to insert another one. Loud grunts and growls filled the air, and Grayback’s hold on Melanie’s neck was as vicelike as ever, but Remus tried not to notice, tried to focus on the way Melanie pushed back against his fingers, the way she relaxed and made herself ready for him. Fisting himself, he made sure to stay hard, positioning himself as soon as he thought she was ready, groaning as he pushed inside – inch by inch – until he was completely sheathed in her arse. 

 

“Fuck her!” Greyback grunted, and Remus started to move, thrusting slowly so that he didn’t hurt her, speeding up after a disgruntled growl from Greyback.  

 

Grunted orders spilled from Greyback’s lips with more and more effort: “Harder – faster – deeper – more!” But the orders were spoken with more and more effort, groaned out rather than spoken. As his groans became louder his grip on Melanie became more demanding. 

 

“You’d better not spill anything!” he groaned out just seconds before he threw his head back and jerked as he came inside Melanie’s mouth, holding her so hard she could barely move. Behind closed eyes, Remus tried to focus, tried to will away the situation so that he could truly enjoy the sensations. When Melanie clenched her muscles and pressed back against him, he finally could and he groaned as he spilled inside her arse, holding her tight as he did. 

 

“You’re learning, pup,” Greyback said sounding pleased, before Remus had even had the chance to pull out. Once he did, he could see that Greyback had let go of his grip on Melanie’s hair, and was sitting back while she arranged his robes the way he wanted them. “Him next,” he told her once she was done, and Remus watched as Melanie rose and went and collected his clothes. 

 

It was an odd feeling to be dressed by someone else, but Greyback seemed to expect it so Remus didn’t object. Greyback looked amused where he sat, leaning back in the chair he hadn’t left once. 

 

“She is a good little bitch, Melanie,” he said calmly. “But she needs to be reminded of her place. Marrok was rather good at that, and I expect you to be too – otherwise I might just give her back to him,” he added; Remus saw Melanie twitch at the thought.

 

“I’ll keep her in line,” he responded, watching while she zipped his trousers, and sat back on her heels, kneeling like before. 

 

“Good, then you may leave!” Greyback said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 

Once out of the room, Remus drew a sigh of relief and Melanie closer as he steered her towards his room. They needed to talk, he needed information – if there was ever a time to demand it, this was it. Maybe something good could come out of being forced to perform on command. And next time he took Melanie, it would be his way – not someone else’s. 


	20. An Unexpected Turn

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Lucian 

**Warnings this part** : dirty talk, frottage, partially clothed sex, wall-sex 

* * *

Ever since the previous full moon, Lucian had been increasingly more aggressive towards Remus. In truth, Remus couldn’t really blame him. It was because of him Lucian had been raped, not only by Greyback, which everyone here had to live with, but by virtually everyone else as well. The fact that Remus hadn’t taken part was not a good enough reason for Lucian not to hate him – after all, Lucian had made his mind up about that even before that night.  

As a result, Remus avoided Lucian as best he could. He tried not to run into him on his own, and when he did, he made sure to leave as quickly as possible. He still shuddered every time he remembered what had happened with Marrok, and had no intention of repeating the experience with Lucian. He feared that a confrontation between them would end the same way. He really shouldn’t have to worry about this – Lucian was a lot lower in rank than Marrok, not to mention both smaller and less experienced than Remus. Only a fool would, in his position, attack or pick a fight. But in many ways Lucian was a fool – the same type of fool Sirius had been, the type of fool who didn’t see his limitations, who took great risks, and often was forced to pay the price for it.  

Therefore, it was not a surprise to Remus when Lucian tried repeatedly to pick fights with him. Lucian sought him out, confronted him – and each time, Remus did his best to ignore him, telling him to give it a rest, whilst trying to get out of the situation as fast he could.  

Unfortunately, today Lucian had caught him in the hallway back to his room – when there was no one else about. 

 

He was grinning as he blocked Remus’s path to the room, the challenging type of grin that Remus had so often seen on Sirius when he picked a fight with someone. He sighed. He knew Lucian’s type too well. 

 

“Hullo,” Lucian said spitefully. “Just the person I was looking for.”

 

Remus sighed. “Get out of my way, Lucian,” he said tiredly. “You won’t succeed anyway.”

 

“And what is it that I won’t succeed with?” Lucian said mockingly. 

 

“Picking a fight with me,” Remus said a bit more annoyed. “I won’t fight you.”

 

“Oh really? And who says I will give you a choice?” Lucian asked. “Or will you run and hide behind Greyback?”

 

Suddenly Remus felt very tired. He looked at the young man in front of him, prancing around in the small hallway, baiting him, hoping for a reaction. “I’m not as hot headed as you, so insults won’t work. Besides, I would be more careful if I were you – you saw what happened when Marrok decided to attack me. I won’t fight you, or attack you, but I will defend myself, and you do not want me to,” he said calmly. 

 

“HA!” Lucian nearly shouted. “What happened with Marrok was a bloody joke! You could hardly get it up, old man – and you only fucked him because Greyback told you to. Without Greyback you’re nothing!” 

 

“Get out of my way, Lucian!” Remus said a bit more forcefully, taking a step forward. He wasn’t happy with the turn of the conversations, or the fact that it was taking place at all.  

 

“Trying to run away again,” Lucian mocked, still blocking his way. “But you see, I won’t let you – you’ll fight me, whether you want to or not!” 

 

His patience wearing thin, Remus clenched his jaws together. “I will not!” he said through gritted teeth, ready to push Lucian out of his way, by force if necessary. 

 

Before he had a chance, Lucian lunged at him, aiming a blow at his face. He missed, but only because Remus was faster, grabbing his wrist and pushing him back against the wall, pinning him there. 

 

“Leave it!” he snapped. “I’m stronger than you and I will win if you challenge me – so don’t!” 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Lucian spat. “You’re not going to do anything, you’re not going to dominate me or fuck me. You’ll just let me go!” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Remus asked in disbelief. Lucian couldn’t possibly think he stood a chance, being pinned to the wall as he was. “It almost sounds as if you want me to fuck you!” 

 

“Maybe I do!” Lucian retorted, making Remus so stunned he actually let him go. 

 

“You what?” he asked, staring at the man in front of him. 

 

“See, just as I thought. Nothing!” Lucian scorned him, snorting as he turned away from Remus. Then, suddenly, he turned again, once more lunging at Remus, forcing him to repeat the whole procedure of pinning him to the wall. 

 

Groaning with frustration, Remus held him tight against the wall. “What the hell do you want from me, Lucian? Do you want to beat me, hurt me? I won’t let you, you know that.”

 

“That’s not what I bloody hell want!” Lucian said with spite.

 

Remus stared at him. He couldn’t actually imply, he didn’t mean… “You actually want me to fuck you,” he said, amazed. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want to hurt me, you want me to hurt you.” 

 

“So what if I do?” Lucian answered, just as spiteful as before, but as he spoke he pressed his crotch against Remus’s leg. He was already hard, very hard. 

 

“And what if I don’t?” Remus said, lifting his eyebrows, but not letting Lucian go, not making him stop rubbing up against his leg. Nevertheless, his answer seemed to unsettle Lucian. 

 

“You bloody wanker, you–” he exclaimed, but Remus quickly shut him up simply by pushing his leg up – not so hard that he would cause real pain, but hard enough to give Lucian a scare. 

 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t – but if you want me to, you’d better start behaving better. I’m not into insolent brats who act like mummy didn’t get them the toy broom they wanted,” he said coolly. 

 

“I’ll be a good boy,” Lucian hissed, his breath hitched and his eyes wild. 

 

Remus nodded slowly and lowered his leg a bit, only to find Lucian immediately grinding himself against it again, nearly riding it – if possible even harder than before. 

 

Remus wondered why he was even considering this, why his own body was responding as quickly as it did. Then Lucian pulled at his arms to try and get loose, and Remus knew exactly why he was interested. Lucian was simply too much like Sirius to resist. Not at all alike in appearance, but too alike in action and demeanour. 

 

“I didn’t say you could move, Lucian,” Remus said forcefully, instinctively knowing what the young man wanted. Just as he thought, Lucian groaned in response. Remus grinned, relaxing, letting his body react to the stimulation of having a young man pressed up against him. 

 

His cock hardening, Remus shifted, pressing his cock and not his leg against Lucian. The response was immediate – Lucian bucked his hips and closed his eyes, a long moan spilling from his lips. 

 

“You want this?” Remus hissed in his ear. “You want me to rub up against you, to press you up against the wall and take you, fuck you so hard that you scream?” he asked. 

 

“Yes, fuck yes!” Lucian whispered throatily. 

 

Remus pushed harder against him, relishing the way the friction from Lucian’s cock felt against his own. Lucian was nearly frantic – impatient like the kid he was. 

 

“Please,” he begged. 

 

“Please what?” Remus asked with a grin. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

 

“Please fuck me,” Lucian groaned, desperation in his voice. 

 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “So soon? Kids today really have no patience,” he teased, making Lucian groan in frustration again. 

 

Remus took a step back and spun Lucian around, shoving him face-first into the wall. He held Lucain in place with his own body, pushing his erection against his arse. 

 

“Drop your trousers,” he ordered, stepping back as Lucian hurried to follow orders. He let him wait, slowly unbuckling his own belt while watching Lucian lean against the wall again, his hands on either side of him, his arse pushed back, pert and firm. 

 

Lazily pulling out his wand from his pocket, Remus cast a lubrication spell. He didn’t bother with preparing him, knowing he wouldn’t want him to, that he’d get off on the roughness of it. 

 

Lucian groaned and pushed back as Remus positioned himself and thrust inside him. His strokes were slow, the pace languid, teasing as he knew Lucian wanted more. When he upped his pace, Lucian nearly growled, fisting his cock with one hand while using the other to steady himself against the wall. 

 

He panted heavily, pushing back with each thrust, moaning, begging, urging Remus on. The hallway filled with grunts and moans, the air stuffy and smelling of sex and sweat, and Remus could feel himself getting closer with every thrust. 

 

He didn’t bother to hold back, there really was no need. The way Lucian was furiously pushing back against him, the way he fisted himself, told Remus what he needed to know – Lucian was close. 

 

His breath heavy and sweat trickling down his neck and into the neckline of his jumper, Remus leant in, threading a hand in Lucian’s hair and pulling his head back until his lips were right next to his ear. 

 

“Come for me like a good little boy,” he whispered, and that was all it took – almost shaking, Lucian came, spilling all over the wall, adding to the many spots on the wallpaper. 

 

Remus followed him nearly immediately, the rhythmic spasms of the muscles in Lucian’s arse milking him as he came. When he finally pulled out he was spent, tired – and wanted nothing more than to lie down on his bed. 

 

He let go of Lucian, pushing back from the wall before he fastened his trousers and adjusted the rest of his clothes. Lucian didn’t look at him – he seemed ashamed of his behaviour, of his urges. He looked mortified when Remus pulled out his wand and cleaned up the mess on the wall. As soon as Lucian finished pulling his trousers back up, he darted for the nearest door, trying to escape. Remus grabbed his arm to stop him. 

 

“The next time you feel the need to be fucked, just say so instead of behaving like an idiot,” Remus said calmly. He let go of Lucian’s arm and turned towards the door to his room. 

 

“What makes you think I’d want more?” Lucian spat defiantly. 

 

Remus sighed and shook his head. “Experience?” he offered. “And the fact that you obviously still haven’t learnt how to behave,” he added when he saw the frown on Lucian’s face. Not waiting for a response, he left, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the privacy of his own room. He stripped out of his clothes, cast some heating spells on the bedclothes, and crawled into bed. The warmth of the bed enveloped him as he lay down, and he sighed as he allowed sleep to creep up on him. He knew Melanie would probably be by later, but until then, he planned to get as much rest as possible. 


	21. Another Encounter

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part** : Remus/Lucian

 

* * *

Remus could hear the door opening and closing even with the water running. Feeling apprehensive, he stilled, trying to work out who it was. It couldn’t be Melanie, she didn’t have the magical skill to open a locked door, and Greyback wouldn’t bother. Lucian, however, had both the skill and a complete inability to respect people’s privacy. With a roll of his eyes, Remus turned the water down. 

 

“What, specifically, is it about locked doors that’s so hard for you to understand, Lucian?” he asked, staying in the shower. He could hear Lucian halt whatever it was he was doing – undressing most likely. 

 

“I thought–” he said. 

 

“You shouldn’t think, Lucian. You should learn to obey,” Remus interrupted. “I thought we’d been through that,” he added as he stepped out of the shower, not bothering to cover himself up. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Lucian said, but judging from the way his eyes swept over Remus’s body and the bulge in his trousers, he wasn’t sorry at all. “I suppose I need some more training,” he added. 

 

“Training?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Punishment?” Lucian suggested instead, his voice rather hopeful. 

 

Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re cheeky,” he said. “But yes, you ought to be punished, and you will be – but not now.”

 

Lucian looked at him with surprise, and, Remus noted with satisfaction, with concern. “Y-you wouldn’t…send me away,” he stuttered. 

 

Remus smiled as he circled him, waiting to answer. Without a word, he bent down and picked up his wand from the pocket of his robes on the floor. He cast another locking spell on the door and added a silencing spell to it as well. Lucian waited, fidgeting nervously but remaining surprisingly still for someone as impatient as him. Remus returned to the shower. 

 

“Finish undressing,” he said simply, not even casting a glance at Lucian but instead pointing his wand at the shower and heating the always cold water. He wouldn’t bother normally, but then this wasn’t exactly normal. 

 

Behind him, he could hear Lucian complying – the rustle of fabric as his trousers fell to the floor, the sound as he stepped out of them and walked over to Remus. 

 

“Get in the shower and kneel,” Remus ordered, casting a sideway glance at Lucian’s erection as he squeezed past him and obeyed. 

 

As he stepped into the shower after him, Remus’s cock was hard and eager. He gave Lucian a grin as he leant back against the wall and gestured him towards his cock. Lucian was quick to respond, leaning in and running his tongue along the shaft. Remus groaned. 

 

“In your mouth,” he growled, looking down as Lucian obeyed, watching  the young man open his mouth and enveloping his cock completely. With a gasp, Remus bucked his hips, almost surprised at the skill Lucian seemed to possess. The pressure of his lips just right, the movement of his tongue perfect, and the way he took Remus all the way in his throat was enough to make most men beg for more. Remus probably would have, if he had been the type to beg. 

 

Growling, he urged Lucian on with the help of his hand, almost allowing the sensations to take over – almost, but not quite. He wanted more than this. He wanted Lucian up against the wall, begging to be fucked. Judging from the way Lucian jerked himself off, thrusting up in his hand while servicing Remus, he wanted the same thing. 

 

“Against the wall!” he grunted, and Lucian was so eager to obey that he nearly slipped and fell. He didn’t though, and soon he was standing facing the wall, the water pouring down his back, collecting in the dimples of his arse before falling in cascades to the floor. 

 

With very little patience, Remus grabbed a bar of soap and lathered it up in his hands before running them over Lucians arse. Lucian groaned and pushed back, mumbling words like __yes, more, please.__ Remus took his time, enjoying the feel of Lucian’s arse all slick with soap. He grabbed the bar of soap again, adding more lather to his hands before working a finger inside Lucian’s arse, making the other man grunt and fist his cock again. 

 

“Please, fuck me,” he begged. 

 

Remus grinned. There was really little need for him to beg, as Remus was throbbing hard and more than ready. Moving quickly, he pressed up against Lucian, pushing his cock inside him. 

 

Lucian groaned loudly, fisting himself harder. This time, however, Remus wasn’t about to let him jerk off on his own. Leaning in, he grabbed Lucian’s cock from behind, taking over. It was all it took, Lucian grunted and came, his whole body shuddering.. 

 

“Impatient boy,” Remus teased. Yet in spite of his words, he was nearly there himself, the way Lucian clenched his muscles too intense for him not to be. 

 

He held on to Lucian’s hips, gripping them so tight that his nails started digging into the skin. A growl coming over his lips when he came, Remus pulled out, spilling over Lucian’s back and arse. Spent, he leant back against one of the other walls, panting as Lucian started to move, the proof of their actions washed away by the water in the shower. 

 

Lucian moved first, stepping out of the shower and drying himself off with one of the towels. Remus listened as he got dressed again, neither of them speaking, neither of them needing to. Lucian cleared his voice when he was done dressing, as if preparing to speak and Remus realised that the new locking spell would be too complex for Lucian to work out on his own. 

 

“Hold on,” he said quietly. Stepping out of the shower, Remus reached for his wand and undid the spell, watching as Lucian stepped outside. With a yawn, he turned off the shower and got dressed himself – he didn’t have time to spend the day in the bathroom after all. The Order would meet in less than a fortnight, and he needed to get some solid information to pass on to them. 


	22. Meeting

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks, Remus/his hand  


* * *

The meeting was well under way, which of course meant chaos had erupted not too long ago. Moody and Kingsley were arguing for one thing or another, Minerva and Dumbledore argued for something else, the rest of the Order were divided in between and as a result, there was a very heated debate going on. Remus didn’t take part. He’d said what he came to say, and sat instead watching the others – or rather trying not to watch Tonks. 

 

It had been more than a month since they’d last met, and he unfortunately had a few rather vivid pictures of that meeting playing in his head every time he chanced a glance in her direction. 

 

She was avoiding looking at him as well, or at least Remus assumed she was as he’d caught her looking away a couple of times already. He didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have wanted to look at himself either if he were her. He’d behaved appallingly, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she never wanted to be in the same room with him again. 

 

Remus sighed and rubbed his temples to push away the headache that threatened to overcome him. He didn’t succeed. In fact, the only thing he did manage to succeed with was to evoke the images from that night – images of Tonks lying on her bed, of her body covered in sweat, bruises on her hips and a bite mark on her neck. 

 

Suddenly overwhelmed, Remus got up and left the room. He headed for the bathroom, in need of… In need of something he couldn’t get in the room they were holding the meeting. Closing the door behind him, he felt disgusted with himself, nauseated even. How could he have allowed it to happen? How could he have allowed the wolf to take over so completely? He was always so good at keeping in control normally, why was it that when ever Tonks was around all control seemed to slip from his fingers?

 

“You bloody well know the answer to that,” he muttered to himself, looking in the mirror of the bathroom. Luckily it was a non-magical one, so even if it would have had any comment about how skinny he looked, it couldn’t very well tell him so. He sighed as he bent down to splash some cold water on his face. He needed to stay focused, to get through the evening and then back to his task. With another deep breath, Remus reached for the towel, drying off his face before he left the bathroom. 

 

He hadn’t expected Tonks to wait for him outside the door. 

 

“Running away again?” she asked, her arms crossed in front of her. 

 

“I’m sorry, Tonks. I never meant–”

 

The sting of the slap burned his skin and Remus knew there had to be a red angry mark from her hand on his cheek. Remus looked down. He more than deserved it, he couldn’t deny that. He probably deserved a lot more. 

 

“How could you just leave me like that?” Tonks shouted; her voice angry and filled with pain. 

 

“I lost control, I shouldn’t have let things – I just couldn’t stay,” Remus said quietly, wishing he could somehow talk to her without feeling the urge to push her up against the wall and make her his again. 

 

_“You couldn’t stay?”_ she yelled. _“And the thought to wake me up never occurred to you?”_

 

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to talk to me after that,” Remus said, slightly surprised. 

 

“So what did you think? That I’d sleep with you and then nothing?” Tonks retorted bitterly. 

 

“Tonks–” Remus started, still confused, still yearning to hold her, to taste her, to take her again. 

 

“I’m in love with you, Remus Lupin. When will you get your head out of your arse and see that?” she interrupted him, her voice urgent and her eyes pleading. 

 

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m too dangerous,” he said, wishing it wasn’t so. 

 

“You are not!” she exclaimed with emphasis. “So stop saying that!”

 

“I’m a werewolf!” Remus cried out. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted to mark you that night? How much the wolf in me wanted to taste you again?”

 

“You wouldn’t hurt me, Remus, so stop bringing that up!” Tonks snapped angrily. 

 

“But I _did_ hurt you!” Remus snapped. “You were covered with bruises; you had a bite mark on your neck, for crying out loud! How can you claim that I wouldn’t–”

 

“In case you missed the million signs I gave you, I bloody well liked it!” Tonks snapped back. “I wanted it as much as you did. I’m not some delicate flower you cannot touch! I want you to touch me!”  

 

“That’s not the point! I’m dangerous, Tonks, the sooner you realise that the better.” Remus interrupted her, scared of what her words awoke within him. “I’m a sodding werewolf and there is nothing that’s going to change that,” he said grimly. 

 

He didn’t listen to what else she had to say. He needed to get away, needed space. He thought he heard her sob before closed the door to the house, but he didn’t stop to listen, just as he didn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone. 

 

Tired and with his head pounding, he Apparated back to his room, grateful that he found it empty. He immediately locked the door, before he finally let himself slump down on the bed. He should probably undress, or open the door so Melanie could come in. But then he wasn’t sure he wanted her to come in tonight. Tonks’s words rang in his ears _I liked it. I’m not some delicate flower that cannot be touched._ How could that be? How could she have liked what happened? He’d been violent, brutal even, so how could she possibly have wanted that?

 

With a sigh that felt only too familiar, Remus got up and undressed. The sheets were cold when he crawled down between them, but he was too tired and too confused to be bothered with a heating charm. _I wanted it as much as you did._ Groaning, Remus tried to will the thoughts to go away – they wouldn’t. Just as the erection he’d had since he first laid eyes on Tonks tonight wouldn’t be willed away either. 

 

Finally giving up, Remus reached down beneath the sheets, wanking as quickly as he could. One hand around his cock and the other caressing his balls, he drove himself further, groaning when he felt the tension build and crying out her name as the tension snapped. He panted, for a while lying still with closed eyes while the tension melted away. Then he reached out for his wand and cleaned up the mess. 

 

Finished, he lay back down. He wanted this to go away, to be out of his mind and heart. He shouldn’t allow himself to dream, to wish for what he could never have. He was a werewolf – and while Tonks might allow herself to forget that, he couldn’t. She fancied him now, but surely she wouldn’t once she realised just how much being a werewolf affected him. Of course she wouldn’t, and he would be wrong to expect her to. It was better this way, even if it felt like his heart was about to rip in two whenever he saw her. This way at least she would be safe from him, and she wouldn’t have to feel guilty when she fell out of love with him. He could live with the pain – he was used to that. 


	23. Trying to forget

  
Author's notes: **Pairing this part:** Remus/Lucian/Melanie  
 **Warnings this part:** collaring, rimming, threesome  


* * *

No matter how hard Remus tried, he couldn’t get Tonks out of his mind. Weeks had passed since they’d last met, and still he could see her every time he closed his eyes, hear her any time the room went silent.  

Melanie noticed it too – not that he was thinking of Tonks specifically, of course. Remus was far too careful to let her name slip to anyone in the house, but she knew something was wrong, that something was constantly on his mind. That was why she had come up with the idea that had him sitting here, waiting for them. An idea that he knew wouldn’t change a thing, but that he hoped would help him forget for a while at least. 

Listening for the sound of their footsteps in the hallway, Remus played with the piece of leather in his hand, relishing how soft yet strong it felt. It was a long time since he’d ever used this. Years in fact, since Sirius had refused to even touch it after he’d returned from Azkaban. The mere thought of any type of confinement had made Sirius back off after that. He’d understood of course. Sirius had been confined for twelve years of his life – how could he not understand his reluctance to be confined again? 

 

Lucian was different though. Remus suspected very much that Lucian had never been confined in his life. There were none of the telltale marks on his body like there were on his own or on Melanie’s. Only the bite marks of the werewolf and a couple of other scars on his back; not enough for someone fighting himself when locked up. Whatever the circumstances of his bite, he had never once tried to confine his wolf once he was one. It was about time Lucian learnt what it was like to be confined. 

 

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard them, and sat patiently watching the door until they were both safely inside. Melanie smiled at him, but Lucian actually looked a bit unsure of himself. __Good__. Remus didn’t want him to be too comfortable. 

 

“What’s that?” Melanie asked looking at the piece of leather in his hand. 

 

Remus smiled, calmly gesturing for her to come over. “It’s a leather collar,” he said and handed it to her. 

 

“Like the ones dogs wear?” she said, just a hint of disgust in her voice. Briefly, Remus wondered if that disgust was another thing Greyback had taught her. If it was, she was about to unlearn it. 

 

“Yes, but this is for humans,” he said calmly. “For Lucian, to be exact,” he added quickly when he saw the look in her eyes. 

 

“Me?” Lucian said sounding shocked. “I’m not some sodding dog, I won’t–”

 

“Then you may leave, Lucian,” Remus interrupted him coolly. “I have no need for you if you do not obey me, I’ve told you that before.”

 

Lucian looked uncertain. His eyes darted from Remus to Melanie to the collar she was holding, but he didn’t look at the door. Remus smiled. 

 

“Melanie, put it on him,” he said simply. 

 

Only slightly hesitant, Melanie moved to do what she was told. Lucian looked like he wanted to run, but he didn’t move, and when push came to shove, he did allow Melanie to put the collar on. Remus shifted in his seat, feeling himself growing hard at the sight. 

 

“Don’t forget this,” Remus said, tossing Melanie a leash, which she immediately fastened in the collar. Remus swallowed hard, his trousers suddenly feeling awfully tight. 

 

“Undress him,” he said, watching as Melanie complied. Layer upon layer of clothing was thrown aside, until Lucian stood naked in front of them, the collar and the leash the only things he wore. 

 

Remus’s breathing quickened at the sight, but he remained in his seat though his body wanted to move, to walk up to the man in front of him, to touch. “On your hands and knees, Lucian,” he ordered instead. 

 

This time Lucian protested. “But, she’s the bitch!” he exclaimed, indicating Melanie with his head while looking very insulted. 

 

“And you’re the one in a collar, now kneel or leave,” Remus snapped harshly.

 

Reluctantly, Lucian obeyed and knelt by Melanie who was looking rather uneasy herself. Remus gave her an encouraging smile. 

“Take his leash and bring him to me, Melanie,” he said calmly, trying to sooth her worries with his voice. In the back of his mind he could hear Greyback’s words, _A bitch should know her place, especially before males in her pack._ It was no wonder the situation made her apprehensive.   

Nevertheless, she complied, picking up the leash from the floor and walking over with it – and Lucian – to him. Thanking her, Remus took the leash, and told her to take off her clothes as well. 

 

“Wait for us on the bed,” he said, watching her follow the orders before he rose and turned to Lucian and ordered him to remove his clothes. 

 

This time Lucian didn’t argue, but quickly moved to obey, removing Remus’s trousers and shirt in a hurry. He was eager in his movements and his cock was already hard in spite of his protest against the collar. Apparently he didn’t mind it as much as he pretended to. 

 

Remus gasped when Lucian’s hand accidentally brushed over his cock, already painfully erect. A triumphant grin spread across Lucian’s face, and even though he kept his eyes firmly on the floor, Remus knew the look of satisfaction that would be there if he had looked up. It was a look he’d seen more than a few times on Sirius, but one he wasn’t prepared to tolerate from Lucian just yet. He hadn’t earned it – he would, but he hadn’t yet. Remus gave the leash a sharp tug and watched Lucian’s smirk vanish.

 

“In your mouth!” he said tersely, keeping his eyes firmly on Lucian as the young man leaned in and took his cock in his mouth, finding a rhythm in long slow strokes that had Remus panting for air within minutes. 

 

A gasp coming from the bed caught Remus’s attention. Melanie was watching them intently; her eyes glazed with desire as her finger clumsily moved to touch herself in a manner Remus remembered teaching her a few months back. It was obvious she didn’t usually, because her movements were a tad jerky and a bit too firm, but she was trying and the situation obviously turned her on. 

 

Remus smiled at her and pushed Lucian away with a gasp of his own. As fantastically skilled as Lucian was at sucking cock, this was not how Remus wanted the night to end. It was far too soon for that. 

 

“Get on the bed,” Remus told him, tugging at the leash in his hand while walking over to the bed and Melanie. He didn’t look as Lucian followed his orders, but leaned in to run his tongue along the line of Melanie’s throat, enjoying the way her small gasps and moans made his cock twitch in anticipation. But it wasn’t Melanie he would fuck tonight; he had other plans in mind. 

 

With a sharp tug on the leash, Remus forced Lucian to bend forward, so that his face was level with Melanie’s knees. He frowned a bit, but didn’t protest, although he didn’t look too pleased at his view. Remus wasn’t surprised. Given Melanie’s inexperience with pleasure, he would have been surprised if someone like Lucian would have been used to being in the position he was now in. He would learn however, whether he liked it or not. 

 

Almost lazily, Remus reached out and moved Melanie’s hand from her cunt, placing the leash in it instead. “Hold on to this for me,” he whispered in her ear, giving her neck another quick peck before he moved so that he had his head over her spread legs, making her pant and involuntarily buck her hips in anticipation of what would come. 

 

Never breaking eye contact with Lucian, Remus leaned down, lazily running his tongue along the parts of Melanie’s clit he could reach. He wasn’t placed as ideally as he could be for the task, but that didn’t matter, the point was to make Lucian watch him, and Lucian watched, a rather shocked but curious look etched on his face. 

 

Remus smiled, flicking his tongue over Melanie’s clit again, then he told Melanie to tug the leash tighter. Lucian was forced forwards, so close that Remus could have kissed him, had he had the inclination to. He didn’t though, his desire laid elsewhere. 

 

“Lick her!” he ordered, pointing to where he wanted Lucian to concentrate his efforts. Lucian, however, did not immediately obey. 

 

“You want me to–”

 

“Didn’t I just say so?” Remus hissed sharply, watching as Lucian nodded as best he could with the leash. “Then do it!” Remus ordered. 

 

He watched as Lucian leaned in to obey, watched as he clumsily moved his tongue over all the wrong places, until Remus started whispering instructions to him. Higher, more to the right, harder, faster. Soon Melanie was groaning and bucking her hips, the leash in her hand tighter than ever as her pleasure took over. 

 

Remus grinned as he moved away, watching Melanie, eyes closed and mouth open, writhing with need. He stopped behind Lucian, leaning down himself and licking along the cleft of Lucian’s arse. Lucian groaned, but didn’t dare stop what he’d been told to do, and Remus knew he was fighting between concentrating on the task at hand or the surge of sensations that were going through his body as Remus intensified his movements, licking in earnest until Lucian was pushing back his hips so violently he was nearly pushing him off the end of the bed. 

 

With Lucian already slick with saliva, Remus didn’t bother to scramble for his wand – positioning himself, he pushed slowly inside Lucian’s arse, groaning as he felt the muscles clench around his cock. Lucian gasped and groaned and pushed back, but never once tried to lift his head. Then again, judging from Melanie’s tight grip on his leash he wouldn’t have been able to if he’d tried. 

 

Melanie was close now, Remus could see it. Her eyes were half closed, her hips slightly raised and her breathing fast and uneven. She groaned, panted and gasped by turns, and her hips bucked violently as she started to reach her climax. The sight was exhilarating, arousing, and encouraged Remus to speed up his pace as he fucked Lucian’s arse. When Melanie did come, her head thrown back as she cried out, Remus groaned almost as loudly himself. 

 

She let go of Lucian’s leash once she’d come, pushing Lucian away as he didn’t have the sense to stop on his own. Her hair hung wildly around her face and she was still panting heavily as she leaned back on the pillows behind her. Lucian growled as he finally could concentrate on the feeling of being fucked hard, of having Remus far up his arse. When Remus leaned forward, snatching up the leash and pulling at it, forcing Lucian’s head up, he gasped and groaned even more loudly than before, the sounds shooting directly to Remus’s groin. 

 

Melanie moved without asking, lying down on the bed again, but with her head in between Lucian’s legs. Remus gasped when he felt her tongue on his balls, and Lucian’s deep groan echoed off the walls as he apparently received the same treatment.  

 

The sensations too much, Remus let go, growling as he came deep inside Lucian’s arse. He panted, pulling out and collapsing on the bed to see Melanie finish Lucian off with her mouth, taking him deep in her throat until he shuddered and came. Melanie didn’t miss a drop, milking him for everything he had, but it was Remus she crawled to curl up with when Lucian had finished. 

 

With a content sigh, Remus felt sleep gain on him. He yawned and told Lucian he could take off the collar, barely noticing when he did. He did hear, if still only distantly, that Lucian asked Melanie questions about him and somehow he managed to wake up enough to snap at him to stop that type of nonsense or at least spare it to a time when he wasn’t around. The sound of Lucian dressing and the door squeaking as he left was the last thing Remus heard before falling asleep, Melanie still curled up tightly in his arms. In his dreams, however, it was Tonks and not Melanie that snuggled up next to him, and Tonks who kissed his cheek with tenderness before resting on his shoulder to sleep _._


	24. Out of the loop

  
Author's notes:

**Pairings this part:**  Remus/Tonks, Remus/Melanie (sort of)  
 **Rating this part:** PG-13

* * *

 

Ron had already been in the hospital wing for more than a week by the time Remus heard about him being poisoned. Annoyed to be so out of the loop of what was going on at Hogwarts, and frustrated that he simply couldn’t go there to make sure that Ron was alright, he opted for the next best thing, to head to the Burrow and talk to Arthur and Molly.  

Molly was in quite a state when he arrived, and worked herself up even more while he was there. In spite of it being clear from the start that Ron would be alright, and apparently recovering quite well, she couldn’t help but to fret about what had happened. 

 

“What if Harry hadn’t been there? What if he hadn’t thought of using that Bezoar? What if more pupils get hurt?” she went on. 

 

“Molly, relax,” Arthur tried. “Harry _was_ there, and he _did_ think of the Bezoar, and Dumbledore is working as hard as he can to protect the pupils–”

 

“Well it obviously isn’t enough, is it Arthur?” Molly snapped. “First that poor Katie Bell, then Ron and now even Harry is in the hospital wing!”

 

“Harry is in the hospital wing?” Remus cut her off, his throat tightening at the thought.

 

“No he’s not,” Arthur said shaking his head. “Not anymore. He got a rather nasty hit from a Bludger during the game against Hufflepuff and Poppy kept him over night to make sure he relaxed, according to Ginny. It had nothing to do with Ron being poisoned,” he said quietly, the information not diminishing Molly’s worries in the slightest. 

 

“Well it is still alarming, and I’m worried! What if something were to happen to Ginny next? The last time students were hurt at school she–”

 

“Molly, this isn’t the same,” Arthur said soothingly. 

 

“Arthur is right, Molly,” Remus said calmly. “And Hogwarts is probably the safest place for them. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but think about it. There is a war going on, they wouldn’t be safe anywhere else, and at Hogwarts they have protection they wouldn’t have if they weren’t there. You know that, Molly.”

 

With a slight sob, Molly nodded. “I’m just so worried,” she said, anxiously rubbing her hands. “The clock,” she said gesturing towards the big Weasley clock, presently located on the coffee table right next to them. All nine hands were pointed to ‘Mortal Peril’ and Remus could feel himself shuddering. “And Harry isn’t even on the clock,” she added with a deep sigh. 

 

Arthur sighed too, putting his arm around Molly and patting her on the back before he got up and gestured Remus to follow him into the kitchen. 

 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said as they were out of earshot. “This has been hard on her, on both of us. If only this war would end soon. But then that’s not likely, is it?” 

 

Remus shook his head. “Not really. The last one lasted long enough, didn’t it?” 

 

“Yes, it did,” Arthur said, taking a bottle of elderflower wine from the pantry and pouring two glasses, one of which he handed to Remus. 

 

“Thank you,” Remus said taking a sip of the sweet liquid. 

 

“Remus,” Arthur said after a few moments, his voice shifting a bit, as if he wasn’t sure about what he was going to say. “I know this is probably none of my business, and please tell me if I’m taking too many liberties, but what is really going on between you and Tonks?” he asked, glancing at Remus through his glasses. 

 

Slightly surprised, Remus looked up from his glass. He had got used to these questions from Molly, but Arthur was not the type to meddle in other people’s businesses. “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said with a sigh. “Although I suppose Molly has filled you in.”

 

“Only a bit, Remus. Women have their confidences, and I wouldn’t ask,” he said. “I wouldn’t ask you either if not, well the meeting,” he said apologetically. “Shouting at each other in the hallway, and then how you left and how Tonks behaved once you had left–”

 

“We weren’t exactly discreet I take it,” Remus said with a sigh. 

 

“Not very, no,” Arthur said. “Look, Remus – I won’t get into your personal life, and whatever is going on is your business and yours alone. After all, just because Molly happens to think you’d make an excellent couple, doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s right. Still, leaving a woman crying in a hallway can never be a good idea. You should at least work things out, settle whatever it is before things get out of hand,” he continued. 

 

Remus gave a forced smile. He knew Arthur was right, but he was fairly sure he didn’t know how far out of hand things had already got. “I’ll try,” he said simply, knowing he really wouldn’t. He should, but he wouldn’t. He hadn’t so far, after all, had he?

 

Arthur, however, seemed happy with his answer and smiled at him as he changed the subject to what was going on in the Ministry. He missed his old job, that much was certain, but he did do well at his new one as well, and for the sake of the war, it was a better one. He was further up the ladder, and could find out more about what was going on. Still it wasn’t much they did know and most of the time it felt as if they were running in circles. 

 

Remus excused himself fairly early, needing the space to think. He though about going to see Tonks like Arthur had suggested, but he chose not to. It wouldn’t solve anything, he knew that. More than likely it would end the same disastrous way as it had before, wanking outside her window, or just watching her, or fighting with her – or shagging her through the mattress again. None of those would solve the problem. As it was, he didn’t know what would. 

 

Tired and with the beginnings of a headache, he decided to return to the house. Melanie would be waiting for him, and while it wouldn’t change a thing or even help him pretend there wasn’t a problem, it might just help him relax for a while. 


	25. Chapter 25

  
Author's notes: **Rating this part** : PG-13

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Melanie

* * *

As spring fought the cold with little or no luck, Greyback’s trips away from the lair were becoming alarmingly many. Some weeks he seemed to spend more time away from house than in it, and he cared less and less about things like arranging for food, leaving the pack to fend for themselves. 

 

Remus wasn’t the only one concerned, although his concern was definitely a different one than that of most of the others. They were worried about Greyback, about what Voldemort possibly made him go through. Remus was worried about the people he killed, and about the plans he was undoubtedly a part of.  

 

That was why, when Greyback was finally in the house, and more so, in the house in the company of a ‘guest’ that no one had been allowed to meet, that Remus decided it was about time he took some risks. It was what he was there for, after all, wasn’t it? To find out what Greyback was planning, what it was he told his werewolves to do. 

 

His heart in his mouth, Remus snuck upstairs, avoiding the steps that he knew would creak. He had probably never wished for James’s invisibility cloak more than he did right now, Greyback had been very clear when he arrived home earlier – no one, absolutely no one, was allowed upstairs tonight. 

 

He knew exactly which room Greyback would be in – up the stairs, to the right, the second door down the hall. _Just a bit further,_ he thought to himself, hoping beyond hope that the floor wouldn’t squeak as he walked on it. 

 

It did, but not as much as it could have, and he was pretty sure that no one would have heard him when he reached into his pocket and took out the twins’ birthday present. 

 

_“We thought you could use this.”_

_“Yeah, with being a spy and all that,”_ they’d said with identical grins on their faces. 

 

He hadn’t thought it at the time, but he did really need it now. Putting the end of the long multicoloured string in his ear, he let the other end fall and find its way to the door, and under it. Inside were two distinct voices – Greyback’s and another man’s, a Death Eater sent by Voldemort no doubt, but one that Remus couldn’t recognise by voice alone. 

_"It couldn’t possibly–”_

_“I’ve already told you, I want in on this plan!” Greyback’s voice cut the other man off. “I helped you get rid of Octavius Pepper last week, you owe me a favour. There is no way I’m missing this!”_

_“Fenrir, calm down,” the man tried. “Of course I’ll try to talk to the Dark Lord, but if he says no–”_

_“If he says no, then you’ll convince him or I might just tell him how you failed to take care of Pepper on your own.”_

_“Alright, alright – I’ll do my very best.”_

_“Good. Dumbledore won’t–”_

 

He didn’t find out what it was Dumbledore wouldn’t. Noises from downstairs caught his attention. Someone was – in spite of Greyback’s orders – coming upstairs. Cursing under his breath, Remus pulled up the Extendable Ear and retreated into the nearest room, hoping that whoever the person breaking Greyback’s orders was, he or she wasn’t heading for the room he was presently hiding in.

 

Curious as to whom it was breaking the orders, Remus once more put the piece of string in his ear. He couldn’t hear much, however. Whoever it was, was also making sure to be quiet. A few footsteps, a door that opened and then closed quietly a minute or two later followed immediately by footsteps retreating down the stairs. 

 

All quiet again, Remus prepared to get back into his earlier position, but just as he opened the door, the door to the room Greyback was in opened too. Before he could be spotted Remus pulled the door nearly shut, but chanced letting a narrow gap give him view outside into the hallway. 

 

The man Greyback was with was large and had blond hair. He looked dangerous, and given his and Greyback’s conversation, he probably was too. They were talking as they headed for the stairs, but as hard as he tried, Remus didn’t manage to pick up anything more of their conversation. 

 

Remus waited until he was certain that Greyback wouldn’t come back up. He couldn’t afford to be caught up here, not if he wanted to stay alive for long. Carefully sneaking downstairs, he started to head for his own room, not relaxing until he was far from the staircase again. He jumped as he heard Melanie’s voice behind him, just as he closed the door to his room behind him.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

Remus turned, trying to think as fast as he could. “Just getting some air,” he said. 

 

“Some air?” Melanie asked, her tone indicating that she didn’t believe him. 

 

“Yes,” Remus insisted. “I couldn’t stand just sitting here. I hate not knowing what’s going on, so I suppose I hoped that I would get a glimpse of whoever it was that was here,” he adjusted, relieved when he saw Melanie smile at him. 

 

“Did you?” she said, biting her lower lip in curiosity. 

 “No, I didn’t,” Remus lied, quickly walking over to the bed where she was sitting, distracting her from questioning him further by kissing the nape of her neck. She giggled and leaned back on the bed. Remus followed, dusting kisses down her already naked chest until she moaned and arched her back to meet his mouth. As Remus licked his way down her body, making her gasp with pleasure, he drew a breath of relief. Melanie was easy enough to handle, but what if it had been someone else that had caught him being away? If there was such a thing as the perfect time to leave, it was certainly drawing closer.


	26. Chapter 26

  
Author's notes:

**Rating this part** : PG-13 

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks

* * *

Even though he’d known there was a risk he’d see Tonks at the meeting, Remus had hoped she wouldn’t be there, that she would purposely stay away from him after what had happened between them. He realised the moment he stepped into the room that he wouldn’t get off so easily. 

 

Tonks looked up from her seat at the table as he entered, not avoiding his gaze, but instead challenging him, demanding his attention. Flustered – and feeling more than a bit ashamed of his behaviour the last time they’d met, Remus was the one to turn his head away, focusing on the fireplace, almost to the extent that someone who didn’t know him might think he’d never seen one before. 

 

In truth, Remus hardly saw the fireplace at all. Before his eyes flashed instead the same images that seemed to figure in his imagination every single time he closed his eyes or allowed his mind to stray for more than three seconds. Images of Tonks, naked, beneath him, begging him for more, wanting him to take her again, not minding his rough ways but relishing them. _Damn it! He needed to get past this!_

 

He could hear her moving behind him, and a large part of him wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and take her into his arms and not let her go again. He didn’t of course. It would never work and they would only end up causing each other pain. Much better to end it now, before it had actually begun. 

 

“Remus,” she said softly, the sound of her voice coming from right behind him rather than the table. “I… We…” she started, but she was cut off by the sound of Mad-Eye and Kingsley coming through the door, talking loudly to each other. Remus turned, looking at them rather than at Tonks, feeling her eyes still on him and picking up her scent even without trying to. 

 

Kingsley shot him a dark look as he stepped away from the fireplace and Tonks – jealousy and anger clearly visible in his eyes. Remus ignored him, walking instead up to Mad-Eye and sitting down next to him at the table. Pretending (when had he become so utterly skilled at pretending?) that nothing was out of the ordinary, Remus asked what was new on his end. In the corner of his eye, he could see Tonks moving, coming to sit in the chair she’d left before on the opposite side of the table. He also noticed Kingsley sitting down next to her, glaring at Remus as more and more people spilled into the room. 

 

The meeting in itself was as chaotic as always and the news brought by Remus didn’t change that fact. Speculations as to what it could be that was planned, to how it connected to Dumbledore, what it was he wouldn’t do. Dumbledore himself seemed convinced that it meant nothing and took it with a calm acceptance that had Remus both annoyed and frustrated. 

 

It was Snape who finally raised his voice and called the meeting to order, a fact that surprised everyone as he usually contributed little to the meetings other than the reports he gave. Maybe that was the reason why people went quiet and listened when he told them that speculations were useless and, in some cases, completely outrageous. 

 

“…after all, does anyone, save from Misters Weasley over here,” he said indicating Fred and George, “really believe that the Dark Lord would be foolish enough to even consider an attack on Hogwarts while Dumbledore is still headmaster?” he asked, glaring at them all. “Besides, if the Dark Lord had been so utterly lacking in intelligence as to concoct such a moronic plan, do you not think that he would have told _me_ , considering I work there, about those plans?” he finished, before going back to sitting quietly back in his chair.

 

“Severus is right,” Dumbledore quickly added to the discussion. “Debating what Greyback’s plans might or might not be is useless. What we should be concerned about is to find a way to stop what we already know is happening.”

 

With that, all conversations about Greyback ended, rendering Remus’s information useless once more. Frustrated, Remus got up from his seat and left the room. He headed for the kitchen, not because he actually wanted something but more because he needed to get out of the room when the others started to discuss the strategies and actions they would take against the Death Eaters. Actions he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, be a part of. 

 

“It can’t be easy when people aren’t listening to you.” 

 

Tonks’s voice was still soft and surprisingly free of anger and resentment. It shouldn’t be – she had every right to be angry with him. She should be angry with him. She didn’t seem to be. When he looked up at her she only looked determined, not angry at all. 

 

“You’re right, it’s not easy,” he said, giving her a faint smile. “I wish I could do more, find out more, know more. I’m not exactly of real use to anyone.”

 

“That’s not true, Remus!” Tonks protested. “You’ve saved plenty of children form a horrible fate, doesn’t that count for anything?”

 

“Maybe,” he said, thinking of all the killings he hadn’t stopped. Greyback had split them in two the previous month, and while he had managed to stop the group he had been in from success, the group Greyback led himself had come back with blood on their breaths and smiles on their faces. Melanie had been ecstatic, even if she tried to hide it when realising that Remus hadn’t been as successful in his hunt. It hadn’t been easy to push out of his mind when taking her that night, but it was still something he had forced himself to do. 

 

“Remus you do as much as you can, but neither of us can do that much,” Tonks said, resting her hand on his arm, apparently completely unaware of the urges she awoke in him with such a simple touch. 

 

“Tonks–”

 

“No Remus, let me talk this time,” she interrupted. “I know you don’t think I can love you, but I do! I don’t care that you’re a werewolf and you’re a fool if you don’t give this a chance.”

 

“It’s not that easy. You don’t know what it’s like, you–”

 

“Then let me find out! Don’t make my decisions for me, Remus. I won’t change my mind!” she argued, and for a moment or two Remus actually thought of doing just that.  Then reality took over and he knew he couldn’t. 

 

“I can’t, Tonks. I’m sorry, but I just can’t,” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t be right to you, and I won’t hurt you like that. I’m too…I’m too everything, Tonks.”

 

“No you’re not!” she exclaimed. 

 

“Tonks, please, just let go,” he said, not being able to stop himself from running his fingers through her hair and caressing her cheek. He dried her tears with his thumb before he let her go, knowing that if he stayed, his resolve wouldn’t last. Leaning in and kissing her cheek briefly, Remus inhaled her scent before he forced himself to leave – the kitchen, the house, her. 


	27. Chapter 27

  
Author's notes:

**Rating this part** : NC-17

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Melanie

**Kink(s) this part** : oral sex

* * *

 

Remus could think of very few ways of waking up that could rival the feeling of having someone’s eager mouth around one’s cock. Therefore, it was with a deeply satisfied groan that he finally opened his eyes this morning. As he looked down, he could see Melanie’s long dark hair spreading across his stomach, and he threaded his fingers through it while bucking his hips to meet the long slow strokes of her mouth. Her rhythm was perfect for a lazy morning, slow and deliberate – first taking him deep in her throat, then swirling her tongue over the head when she pulled away. 

He growled when she moved her hand to caress his sac, the feeling of her nails gently scraping the sensitive skin only adding to the sensations that spread through his body and made him squirm with want and need. Shallow pants replaced his breaths as his heart beat faster and faster and he groaned when she – as if told by some invisible power – sped up her movements, increased the pressure of her tongue, took him deeper, harder, more. 

 

_Fuck, it felt good when she did that!_

 

Far too soon he was gasping as he came, spilling inside her mouth, watching her as she milked him for what he had, swallowing everything he offered. Deeply sated and content, if a bit surprised, Remus leaned back against the pillows, smiling as Melanie looked up at him. 

 

“What was that for?” he asked her with a smile on his face, watching as Melanie sat up between his legs with a wide grin on her face. 

 

“You needed to wake up, and today is going to be a good day,” she said happily. 

 

Remus laughed and reached out for her, waiting to speak again until she sat curled up next to him. “And what specifically is it that tells you today will be a good day?” he asked, trailing a line with his finger from her neck to her breast, making her gasp slightly as he pinched her nipple. 

 

“Greyback is in an excellent mood today,” Melanie answered in between gasps. “Something is going on that he’s really happy about – so it has to be something good that is happening.”

 

Remus stilled and looked at her, worried even as he forced a smile at her. He was sure she was quite wrong. If Greyback was happy today was a very bad day. 

 

The moment he left his room, Remus noticed Greyback’s elated mood. He was grinning from ear to ear, showing off his fanglike teeth, and at one time, Remus thought he actually saw Greyback sharpening his nails. He looked sinister even with a smile on his face, and for most of the day, Remus tried to work out what was making him so happy. When no one seemed to know why, he even asked Greyback what had made him so cheerful, but Greyback only said what Melanie had – that today would be a good day – then he proceeded to show Remus just how good it could be. Or rather, how good Greyback thought it could be. Greyback’s version of good mostly had him nauseous and in need of a very long shower. 

 

Nervous and unable to obtain any useful information at all, Remus decided to do the only thing he could do – send a message to the Order and have them look into the matter. Sending a message, however, proved a rather difficult task. With Greyback happy, most of the others were out and about, and Melanie hardly left his side at all after he’d returned from talking to Greyback. It was already quite late in the afternoon when Remus decided that necessity knew no law and went outside to send his message anyway. If things were as bad as he suspected, it wouldn’t matter if he got caught being a spy – getting news to the Order was much more important. 

 

Melanie, who came with him when he left the house, lit up when she saw his Patronus again, once more failing to see its importance. Impressed with its beauty and strength, she reached out as if to touch it, and watched mesmerised as it ran away through the trees to disappear in the distance. Remus smiled nervously at her, almost feeling guilty about betraying her the way that he did. He had thought about telling her, sometimes thinking that she did actually care enough about him to listen to what he had to say. But then she reminded him of how much more she cared about, and was dependent upon, Greyback and he knew that she would run to him on first sign of suspicion. He couldn’t tell her, doing so would be suicide. Sometimes he even wondered who he would have to watch out for most when his true allegiance was known, Greyback or her. 

 

Not wanting to go inside again, just in case a message was sent back – Remus stayed in the cluster of trees, teaching Melanie some of the spells he had promised. Nothing difficult or complicated, but spells that would be handled by Hogwarts first years, which Melanie could learn without there being a risk of her ever using them against him or anyone else in the Order. 

 

Dumbledore’s Patronus arrived just before dark, and even as he saw it coming through the trees, Remus knew there was something terribly wrong. It looked weaker than it normally did, as if it had travelled for too long and was getting fainter. 

 

From behind him, Remus could hear Melanie call out to him, wondering what this meant, if this animal was created by the same spell, where it came from, who created it. He didn’t answer, too focused on the message the phoenix would carry to worry about Melanie or anyone else at the moment. Melanie reached his side almost at the same time as the Patronus did, but Remus had already received the message. He heard Melanie say his name just as the Patronus vanished and he himself Disapparated. 

 

He Apparated inside the Shrieking Shack and started to run almost immediately. Down the stairs, down the trap door, along the dark corridor. The message had reached him late, he knew that, which also meant that there was no time to waste. Exerting himself to the utmost, Remus tried to run faster. Tried to push himself more. He needed to get there fast. There was no time to rest. If whatever was happening was happening at Hogwarts – no he couldn’t allow himself to rest or take it slow. Not now. Not today. Not when Dumbledore had requested him to be there. 

 

His breath came in shallow bursts, each and every one setting fire to his lungs, and his legs felt like jelly – but he still kept running. He emerged under the Whopping Willow just as the sun set, clouding everything in darkness, but he didn’t care or bother to light his wand. There wasn’t a single step that he hadn’t taken a million times before, not a tuft of grass he didn’t know by heart. 

 

He reached the large oak doors just as a loud bang was heard from inside the castle. As he hurried inside he listened. All was quiet, and yet Remus could feel there was something not right. Stubbornly ignoring the pounding of his heart and the fierce burning in his chest, he threw himself into one of the secret passageways, hurrying along as steps inside brought him higher and higher in the castle. He didn’t know why he wanted to move upstairs, but it felt right, and he was too old to question his intuition. He hurried, even as his chest felt as if it was going to explode from the strain. 

 

He emerged just a few feet away from where Tonks and Bill as well as several of the teachers were gathered. They looked bewildered, if still determined and were all heading towards the seventh floor. Tonks was the first to see him, looking relieved if still pained at the same time. He glanced away quickly, turning to McGonagall who simply beckoned him to come alone. 

 

“You’re late,” she said tersely. 

 

“I didn’t get the message in time,” Remus panted, barely able to speak. “I got here as fast as I could.”

 

“The bang came from here,” Professor Flitwick interjected, seemingly completely uninterested in Remus’s late arrival. 

 

They hurried up the stairs, following Professor Flitwick’s pointing hand, wands in hand and eyes wide open to detect any sign of trouble. It wasn’t they who discovered trouble, however, but trouble that found them as Neville, Ron and Ginny ran into them as they turned a corner. The three of them spoke nearly all at once, making it almost impossible to hear what they had to say. Almost, but not completely – two words were only far too clearly heard, two words that Remus had never wanted to hear connected to Hogwarts – Death Eaters. 

 

Once more forced to ignore the pain in his chest, Remus broke into a run – running toward the end of the corridor where Neville, Ginny and Ron pointed. He wasn’t the only one. The others were right by his side, even Ron, Ginny and Neville, who all refused to listen when McGonagall ordered them to bed. She didn’t press the matter, but instead increased her pace, taking the lead only to be forced to duck behind a corner as a purple jet of light flew past her. 

 

She retaliated almost immediately, sending off a powerful hex in the general direction the spell had come from without even moving from her crouched position. There was a shout and a yell, and as if driven by command, they charged, taking advantage – or so they hoped – of the confusion the spell had created. 

 

Unfortunately, they soon discovered that the spell had caused almost no disruption at all. Apart from a few fleeting moments, the hex – as well any they cast after that – seemed to do very little to the Death Eaters. They were simply too aggressive, too skilful, too many. No matter how hard they fought, they were losing – there was no denying it. The big bulky blond, Remus had seen at Greyback’s house was there, firing off spells in every possible direction – hitting walls, windows, paintings and ceiling. A woman in a painting ran away wailing as the painting she was in caught on fire, and all of them were forced to duck several times from the hexes and curses ricocheting off the walls. 

 

Above the shouting and yelling, Remus heard McGonagall call out to Professor Flitwick to run to Snape for help, and the thought struck him that he ought to get Hagrid as well. The thought vanished, however, as soon as it had formed when he saw Greyback charge at Neville. With a cry Remus lunged forward, snatching Neville by the back of his robes and pulling him back – out of harm’s way. Their eyes met for only a fraction of a second, but Remus knew it was enough. Greyback could see his betrayal, his true allegiance, in his eyes as much as his actions as he pulled Neville back behind a wall, crouching. 

 

“Stay as far away from that man as you possibly can, Neville!” he said quickly, leaving him behind the wall as he ran forward, joining the fight only to be forced to duck out of the way of another curse – the green light enough to tell him he wouldn’t have got up again had the curse actually hit him. A loud thump behind him made him turn his face, and he drew a breath of relief when he realised the fallen man was one of the Death Eaters. 

 

The breath caught in his throat as he turned back, and even with curses flying off the walls, the only thing Remus could see right then was Greyback, sitting across Bill Weasley tearing at his face and body with his nails and teeth. Bill was lying lifeless on the ground, and Remus barely managed to stop himself from vomiting at the sight. He was scarcely aware of casting the spell, but there was no problem with his aim as it missed Greyback only as he ducked and rolled out of reach. A shout from the others made him move towards the tower, and before Remus had the chance to send another hex his way, he vanished around the corner of the spiral staircase. 

 

Neville was the first to take up the chase, but an invisible barrier tossed him into the wall with such a force he didn’t get up again. Torn between trying to break through the barrier himself and checking on Bill, Remus stood, frozen until a hex hit his arm causing a white hot pain through it that nearly had him double over. Behind the pain he heard Tonks voice, a hex fired, and then a spell, recovering his arm to its normal state. Picking up his wand from where it had fallen to the floor, he moved towards Bill. With curses flying through the room and jumping off the walls and floors, he didn’t have time to examine him, but it didn’t take long to determine the most important thing – Bill was still alive, badly hurt but alive. He ducked the next jinx by throwing himself behind a statue, and retaliated by trying to stun the caster. He missed, but at least distracted the caster long enough to move towards the barrier – somehow he knew it was crucial to get through, to get to the tower. He turned as he heard a shout, and saw Snape running towards them all, wand in hand. A warning about the barrier was just about to leave his lips when he saw Snape cross it as if it wasn’t there at all. Urgently, he tried to follow, only to feel the barrier solid in front of him, throwing him back with a force that reminded him of being punched hard in the stomach. 

 

Breath still shallow from the force, Remus repelled another jinx, pulling on his last reserves to get up and keep fighting. Even with one of the Death Eaters down, and several of the others upstairs in the tower, the situation was a hopeless. They were severely outnumbered, and the Death Eaters seemed to have little or no respect for who they hit. There was a rumble, and a large portion of the ceiling came down, nearly hitting Tonks, whom Remus managed to pull back at the last moment. 

 

A shimmer erupted in the air around the staircase, and then Ron cried out that the barrier was gone. Charging forward they ascended the stairs, back against back, ducking curses from behind and preparing for the ones that would come from in front. 

 

The first they saw coming down the stairs, however, was Snape, holding a tight grip on Malfoy’s neck as he ran. Almost instinctively, Remus threw himself to the side, allowing them to pass while firing off curses at the Death Eaters behind them. Forced to retreat, Remus backed out into the corridor again, in full fight with a large black haired Death Eater whom he didn’t recognise. He saw Harry emerge running from the tower only from the corner of his eye, but he saw Greyback lunge at him all the more clearly. 

 

His throat constricting until he could barely breath, Remus cast the stunning spell across the room without thinking. He saw Greyback fall, and Harry, thankfully, get up on his feet. A wave of relief washed over Remus as he watched Harry cast a spell at one of the Death Eaters, and then keep running. He stumbled across Bill and the fallen Death Eater, but got up again and kept running after helping Tonks fight off the large blond who had caused the ceiling to fall in. 

 

Everything seemed to become still after that. The Death Eaters were running away, the corridor emptied and became almost quiet, silence spreading as Ginny and Ron fell to their knees next to their brother. 

 

“Is he?” Remus heard Tonks whisper in his ear. He shook his head and heard her subsequent sigh of relief. 

 

“We need to get everyone up to Madame Pomfrey!” said McGonagall firmly. “Those of you who can walk, help with carrying those who cannot, and while you are up there, make sure you are treated yourself as well. No buts, no excuses,” she added giving Ron and Ginny particularly stern glances. 

 

They didn’t object to the orders. Looking down at their brother they only nodded, keeping their wands at hand to help each other lift him. Stepping up, Remus helped them. 

 

“Will he be alright?” he heard Ron ask. 

 

Remus tried to smile reassuringly, but failed miserably. “I don’t know, Ron,” he answered instead. “Let’s see what Madame Pomfrey says, shall we?” he added, levitating Bill in the direction of the Hospital Wing. 


	28. Chapter 28

  
Author's notes:

**Rating this part** : NC-17

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks

**Kink(s) this part** : desk sex, partially clothed sex

 

**Other:** Once more I’m forced to use a bit of canon dialogue, this time from the hospital scene. Sentences from HBP is marked with * for clarity. 

* * *

Remus rose from his seat next to Bill’s bed the moment he saw Harry enter the room, looking at him for signs that Greyback had bitten or scratched him too. More than anything, he wanted to go over to him, see for himself if he was alright. Before he had the chance to though, Hermione ran up to Harry and threw her arms around him. Besides, Remus didn’t think Harry would want him to fuss, and he did seem to have escaped Greyback without being hurt. Remus still asked though, needing to know for sure. 

Harry barely looked at him when he answered, but looked instead at Bill, asking how he was and if there was nothing more that could be done for him. Ron asked too, worried about his brother, and Remus found himself answering questions he hardly knew the answers to. How would he know what happened to someone bitten when the biter was not in his werewolf form? Contamination, probably, especially this close to the full moon – but other than that, there was no real way of knowing. No one had been in this situation before. Ron was probably right, though. Dumbledore would know what to do – or at least have a few ideas. Maybe–

“Ron – Dumbledore’s dead.”*  

The _no!_ that escaped his lips did so without Remus really registering it. A searing hot pain that had nothing to do with physical injuries surged through him as he stared at Ginny who had spoken, then at Harry, hoping that he would say it was a mistake. As he realised it was not, he felt himself sink into the chair he had risen from only moments before. 

 

_Dumbledore was dead! Dumbledore, who’d let him attend Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have, who’d made him a teacher, who’d always believed in him even if that meant that he demanded things that Remus didn’t think he could do._

He didn’t really hear what was said around him, only one piece of fact managed to pierce his mind – Snape was the one who killed Dumbledore! Sirius had been right to hate him, Harry had been right to suspect him – Dumbledore had been wrong to trust him, and now he was dead. 

 

Remus felt he probably should get angry, get furious – yet somehow he didn’t master the energy to and when Fawkes started to sing outside, he couldn’t really think of anything anymore. 

 

He heard, rather than saw, McGonagall enter the room, and somehow he managed to take part in the discussion that followed. It was a strange feeling – as if someone else was talking instead of him. He heard the words, the harsh tone of his voice, he felt his mouth move, but he wasn’t truly aware of speaking. Almost as if an invisible bubble had seized him and kept him at a distance from everyone else. Outside, but still there. And then Harry brought him back to reality, a single piece of information cutting through the invisible bubble around him. 

 

_Snape had not only killed Dumbledore, but he was also responsible for James and Lily being killed!_

 

The anger that surged through him was too much, too hot, and it burned his insides as he swallowed again and again to regain control. He said what needed to be said, regained his composure like he always did, fighting to pretend things were normal the way he had spent months learning how. When McGonagall blamed herself, he told her it wasn’t her fault and when Hermione buried her face in her hands out of shame for letting Snape pass her and Luna, he told her the same. Inside he wanted nothing more than to tear Snape limb from limb.

 

Like a fish out of water, gasping for breath, he tried to focus on what went on around him. When he saw Arthur and Molly storm through the doors, followed closely by Bill’s fiancée, it was a relief, as if someone thrown the fish back in the water again. This he knew how to do. This was familiar, comfortable – something more than imagining Snape torn to pieces during the next full moon. 

 

Hurrying, he got up from the chair and quickly moved away from the bed, giving Molly and Arthur space as they hurried to be by Bill’s side. Without really looking, he noticed Tonks doing the same thing. Once more he answered the same questions about Bill, once more he knew there was no way of telling if what he said was right or not. Still it kept his mind busy, helped him push everything else away if only for a moment. 

 

As Molly wept at her son’s mangled future, Remus turned away, glancing at Fleur standing with shock etched on her face, staring at Bill. A deep sadness filled him at the thought that Bill now would lose much more than his good looks. 

 

And then Fleur spoke, and Bill hadn’t lost her at all. Fleur was at his side, thinking he looked ‘brave’ and saying his looks didn’t matter. She still loved him – but how?

 

“You see!”* Tonks’s voice reached him, making him turn to look at her. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”* she said forcefully. 

 

If Remus had ever wished for anything, giving in to Tonks and taking her in his arms was it. He didn’t, couldn’t. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into – he wasn’t the same as Bill. Tense and trying to keep calm, he told her just that. 

 

She didn’t even let him finish – grabbing the front of his robes, as if she was trying to shake sense into him she repeated that she didn’t care. “I’ve told you a million times…”*

 

“And I’ve told _you_ a million times,”* he replied wishing his heart didn’t want to give in as much as it did, repeating what he had said so many times before. “I’m too old for you, too poor…too dangerous…”*

 

He should have known Molly wouldn’t stay out of it. Saying he was ridiculous, she made her point clear. He knew that was her opinion, even when he told her firmly that he was not being ridiculous at all. It surprised him more that Arthur spoke up, and if the day hadn’t been so strange already he would have toppled over when he heard McGonagall offer her opinion as well. 

 

Even as Hagrid came into the room, interrupting them, Remus knew Tonks wouldn’t let him get off this easily. Not this time. He wouldn’t be able to avoid it any longer, he needed to take her somewhere and talk, properly. Somewhere they would be alone and where he could make her see sense, see the danger of being with him. 

 

Patiently waiting until the room started to clear, Remus gestured at Tonks to come with him. She followed immediately, only looking mildly surprised when he tapped the frame of a painting to make it move and reveal a passageway. 

 

They walked in silence, following the winding path until they emerged in a second floor corridor, where Remus turned right.

 

“Where are we going?” asked Tonks for the first time. 

 

“My old office,” Remus said quietly. “We’ll be able to speak undisturbed there,” he added as they turned another corner. 

 

They didn’t speak again until they were safely inside and the door behind them was closed. The room looked very different from when it had been his, but Remus really didn’t care at the moment. With deep breaths he tried instead to calm himself enough to do what was necessary, to fight the urges that was in his body even now, the wolf inside him never resting this close to the full moon. 

 

“Remus, I–” Tonks started, but Remus cut her off before she could say what was on her mind. 

 

“I have not brought you here because I’ve changed my mind, Tonks,” he said firmly, his back towards her so he wouldn’t have to see her. “I can’t be with you, I’m wrong for you in so many ways, some of which you don’t even understand.”

 

“ _That I don’t understand?”_ Tonks snapped. “Do you even know how insulting that is?” she asked pulling at his arm until he turned around. “I’m not a little girl, Remus, even if you seem intent on viewing me as such. I’m a grown up woman who can make up her own mind. I know it won’t be easy, and I’m not pretending there won’t be problems, but we can overcome them if we want to!”

 

“And why would you want to?” Remus said grimly. “Look at me! I’m far older than my years, I can’t offer you anything worth having. I can’t hold down a job, I don’t own a single piece of clothing that isn’t patched or torn…I couldn’t even offer you children,” he said. 

 

“Children? What are you talking about, Remus,” Tonks said, sounding confused. 

 

Remus sighed. “You’re only 24, Tonks. You might not think of a family now, but one day…one day, you’ll want children, and I won’t be able to offer you that,” he said calmly. 

 

“Remus, I’m interested in _you_ , not some children that we may or may not have in the future,” Tonks said. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever want children, but even if I would want them, if you didn’t then we’d sort it out. You’re worth much more–”

 

“No Tonks. Don’t. I would never forgive myself if you gave up anything that important because of me. And this isn’t about me not _wanting_ children....” he took a deep breath. “Look, even if we disregard what a horrible idea it would be for me as a werewolf to have a child, I would probably not be physically able to have children anyway,” he said. 

 

“How do you kno…?” Tonks started to ask, trailing off before she had asked the full question. 

 

“There are indications that werewolves are, well, sterile,” he said, swallowing hard as he spoke words he had never allowed himself to think before. There had always been reasons, excuses not to look into the matter, not to think about it, but he couldn’t avoid it anymore. He had to acknowledge what could very well be the truth. 

 

“Indications?” Tonks asked. 

 

“There is no absolute proof, but I’ve never seen a werewolf pregnant and I never heard about one being a father. I doubt very much that I would ever be able to father a child. I wouldn’t be able to give you what you want, and if…”

 

“Remus, stop!” Tonks interrupted him. “Will you for once let me make up my mind? I don’t care! I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. I don’t care if you can or can’t have kids. I care about _you_ – I’m in love with you.”

 

“Tonks–”

 

“No! You’ve had your say, it’s my turn now!” she stopped him. “I won’t pretend to know what I’ll want in the future. I do, however, know what I want now, and I want _you_. If we were to want children in the future, we’ll work it out somehow. There must be plenty of children with no parents who need someone to take care of them, kids like Harry, Remus. Either way, if we have or don’t have children, it will be fine. Can’t we just try to think of what is now – not what might or might not be in the future?” she pleaded. 

 

Remus shook his head. “No, I can’t, Tonks. Even if there were ways – what kind of father would I be to a child? I couldn’t subject a child growing up with me as a father. I’m too dangerous for a normal life–”

 

“Will you stop saying you’re dangerous?” Tonks snapped, irritation clear in her voice. “You are not! Not with the Wolfsbane Po–”

 

“What Wolfsbane?” Remus interrupted. “There is no more Wolfsbane – Snape was the one…” he trailed off, realising for the first time what this meant. Suddenly not able to breathe he sank down into one of the chairs. Without Snape there would be no Wolfsbane and without it – he was going to go back to transforming the way he had before. He would be as dangerous as ever, forced to lock himself up again.

 

“Remus, I didn’t think that far. I’m so… You’ll find a way, _we’ll_ find a way.”

 

“How? How could you change that, Tonks?” he whispered. 

 

“We’ll get someone else to do it. Hell, I’ll learn how to do the ruddy potion myself, if needed!”

 

“Tonks, don’t fool yourself, this is not something you just whip up–”

 

“Are you forgetting that I’m an Auror? I may be pants in the kitchen, but I do know a thing or two about brewing potions!” she interrupted him. 

 

For once, Remus didn’t argue; the thought of not having the potion too frightening for him to contradict her. 

 

“Remus please,” she pleaded. “Just give me a chance, trust that I know my own heart, that I won’t care what you are, that I won’t leave – just please!” she begged, falling to her knees in front of him. 

 

Remus closed his eyes. “I just–”

 

“You’re hurting me far more this way than you ever could by giving me what I want,” she said, and when Remus opened his eyes, she was far too close, far too much, and even if he had wanted to, there was no way he could have stopped himself from pulling her closer and claiming her mouth with his. 

 

A muffled moan escaped her as he coaxed her lips apart with his own, and the sound alone was enough to drive any remaining sense of reason from his mind. Moving fast, Remus pulled her to her feet and had her backed against the desk in seconds, for the first time truly letting go. Tonks meowed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as he lifted her up on the edge of the desk. The feeling of having her pressed up against him was intoxicating. He didn’t care about whatever it was he heard fall to the floor, nor did he care whether or not he’d locked the door or if someone could hear them. What he cared about was _her_ , wrapped around him, pulling at his robes to get them off, moaning his name as he moved his mouth down the column of her neck. 

 

He didn’t take off her robes, but simply lifted her enough to pull them up to her waist. She had only knickers on underneath, and the scent of her arousal reached his nose almost immediately. As he brushed his knuckles over the fabric he could feel it dampening, and a deep growl rose within him as he used his free hand to unclasp the top of her robes enough to allow his hand to find its way inside. 

 

_“Yes!”_ she hissed and reached out, once more pulling at his robes. This time she succeeded in pulling them up and even as she lost her balance and fell back on the desk, she moaned and ground herself against his hands the best that she could. “More…off…need to feel…” she groaned incoherently, but her groaning was enough, it was permission, and Remus could hardly get his belt unclasped fast enough. 

_Why did he bother with silly Muggle clothing when he didn’t have to, anyway?_

 

Finally – _finally_ – managing to push his trousers and pants down over his hips, Remus pushed Tonks’s knickers aside, and thrust inside her, savouring the sounds that spilled from her lips as he did. She grabbed the front of his robes, dragging him down for a kiss as his hands searched and found a way beneath the excess fabric of her robes. His hold on her hips steady, Remus pulled her towards him, until she was on the very edge of the desk, allowing him to thrust deep inside her, drawing moans and gasps from her lips as she arched her back and wrapped her legs around him.

 

She cried out his name as she came, her whole body shuddering as she allowed her climax to take control. With Tonks’s legs tight around his waist and the walls of her cunt convulsing around his cock, Remus couldn’t hold out any longer. A wave of pleasure racked his body as he came with a loud groan, burying his head in the nape of her neck. 

 

Sweat trickling down his neck, Remus didn’t move but stayed still, slumped over her body as she lay on the desk. Her scent still filled his nostrils, still tickled his senses even though his body was completely spent. Like this, completely still, he could feel her heart beating in her chest, hear her breath as she calmed down, and even though his back started hurting from the awkward position he was in, he didn’t want to move. He still did, knowing he had to. 

 

“Will you leave me again this time?” 

 

It wasn’t an accusation – only a question, and yet it was enough to make Remus’s heart fill with guilt and grief. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he most certainly didn’t want to leave her – but would she stay once she knew what it was like to live with him? Did it even matter? It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. He couldn’t leave her; his heart wouldn’t let him let go. 

 

“I won’t. I couldn’t,” he said quietly, straightening his back and looking her in the eyes as she pushed herself up to rest on her elbows. She smiled. For the first time in almost a year, she actually truly smiled, and as she did her whole face lit up. Watching her, it struck him for the first time. This was what mattered. Not the heartache that might come or the pain of maybe losing her in the future. This – seeing her smile like that. It was enough. It would make everything else worth it. Whether this could or could not last, making her happy would be enough for now. 


	29. The Funeral

  
Author's notes:

**Rating this part** : very soft R

**Pairing this part** : Remus/Tonks

* * *

 

 

 

Dumbledore’s funeral was everything Remus had expected it to be, and yet it wasn’t nearly enough. The words spoken seemed meaningless and half of the people who were there shouldn’t have been there at all. Somehow Remus thought that the parts those people frowned upon the most, the parts the likes of Rita Skeeter would say disrupted the funeral, were the ones Dumbledore would have treasured the most – Hagrid being the one to carry him to his final rest, the merpeople singing, the centaurs shooting their arrows in respect. Those were the things that Dumbledore would have wanted, not some boring speech about how great he was.   

To Remus, the mere thought of Dumbledore being gone made it harder to breathe, and the only thing that made the day bearable at all was the feeling of Tonks’s hand in his, her head on his shoulder, her hair bubblegum-pink again. It was surprising, really, the difference a couple of days could make. 

Since they had left Hogwarts, everything had changed, and yet his feelings were just the same as before. From the moment he’d leisurely undressed her, even the wolf in him sated enough to take it slowly, he had known there was no turning back. With every gasp he’d drawn from her with languid kisses, his reasons had faded a little bit more. With every moan his touch had induced, his heart had tied him just a little bit closer. 

She was still insecure, and made him promise over and over again that he wouldn’t leave her this time. For him, that wasn’t even an option anymore. For him, having her now, was all he could care about, all he could think about – and with every inch of skin he’d uncovered and dusted with light kisses, he’d fallen just a little bit more in love with her.   

He was surprised at how natural it had felt to settle into her home, how at ease they both seemed to be around each other. It was far too fast by any logic, and yet it felt completely and utterly right, and besides, where else would he live? It wasn’t as if he could go back to Greyback’s house, he’d be killed on sight, and he didn’t have any other home. 

 

Molly and Arthur seemed to think they were doing the right thing though. Even while sobbing, Molly managed to smile at them, and while Arthur just nodded a bit, glancing knowingly at their entwined hands, Remus knew he was happy for them. In fact when glancing around most of the Order seemed happy for them – perhaps with the exception of Kingsley, but even he patted Tonks on the back and whispered that it was nice to have her back, giving her hair an appreciatory look. Tonks nodded and smiled, but also pulled Remus closer, slipping her arm around his waist as they watched Harry standing a short distance away. He was standing with his back turned, talking to Ron and Hermione.

 

“You want to talk to him?” Tonks asked quietly. 

 

Remus shook his head. He did actually, but this wasn’t the time or place. Harry was with his friends, and he needed to digest what had happened on his own. He’d find time to talk to him later. Besides, the full moon was only a few short days away, and he needed to start preparing himself – find somewhere to lock himself up. He shuddered, the thought scaring him. He hadn’t transformed like that for a very long time, and he remembered far too well what those transformations were like. But then Tonks leaned in and kissed his cheek and some of the worry seemed to melt away. 

 

“We’ll work something out,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against the side of his face, and when he turned so that he could look her in the eyes, he almost dared to trust her. 

 

~end~


End file.
